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Drinking with Nezumi was always an interesting experience. Not that Shion really drank all that much in the first place - especially not when he could see that Nezumi himself was going to be drinking a lot on a particular night. One of them had to have mostly clear judgement, at least.
The moment Shion had returned to their flat that night after running errands, he knew something was off. The usual tell-tale bottles weren’t strewn about in disarray, but Nezumi’s demeanor was slightly different - and Shion certainly knew what that meant better than anyone.
“Welcome home, Shion,” Nezumi called from the couch, where he’d sprawled himself bonelessly. His voice had a slight, playful lilt to it as he spoke. Shion placed his shopping bags on the kitchen counter before returning to the living room.
“I’m back,” he said as he sat on the edge of the couch. Nezumi didn’t shift to accommodate him, though his head turned so that he was facing the drummer. The dark-haired man studied him deeply for some time.
“You’re sexy,” the guitarist declared, nodding firmly as if agreeing with himself.
“Thanks,” Shion replied absently, mentally calculating. The taller man was already well past the beginning broodiness stage of his drunkenness, and was either in the middle pure-horny stage, or had entered into the ridiculous-mixed-with-random-horniness stage. Judging by the powerful scent of alcohol coming from the other man, Shion was pretty sure his boyfriend was in the later phase of drunkenness.
Nezumi’s brow furrowed in concern. If Shion didn’t know any better, he would say that the man hardly looked any different than usual, and certainly not like a sloppy drunk (like their manager Rikiga-san).
“Shion, you better stop being so sexy. It’s dangerous. If you don’t, I’m gonna have to attack you. I’m gonna come after you with my cockasaurus! Rawr!” Nezumi’s words were paired with a strange, half-hearted scratching motion made by his hands.
Shion gave a long-suffering sigh. So Nezumi was in the completely ridiculous phase of drunkenness. He managed to rearrange the two of them on the couch so NEzumi’s head rested in his lap. It was going to have to be another one of those “stay on the couch and watch television until Nezumi can be convinced to go to bed” sort of nights, apparently.
“Wait. I bet you’d like that. You want me to be rough, don’t you? You want to be filled with my cockasaurus,” Nezumi continued, not seeming to notice the change in positions.
“Sure, whatever you say, Nezumi,” Shion responded, patting the other man’s head gently.
“You’re such a pervert,” Nezumi said with what he clearly believed was mock surprise. It really only sounded more like a pervert. And incredibly sexy pervert, but definitely not the usual theatric manner that usually accompanied Nezumi’s banter with the drummer.
As they sat together on the couch, television playing in the background, Shion expertly deflected all of Nezumi’s attempts at trying to seduce him. He knew what the studies proved - no matter how horny Nezumi thought he was, the alcohol in his system would make any sexual activity difficult due to it’s depressant nature. And while Shion did love having sex with Nezumi, it would not be nearly as fun if his lover couldn’t get it up, and was clumsy in doing everything else.
The first time it had happened, Shion had been at quite a loss as to how to handle his companion. That time, Nezumi didn’t get drunk enough to bypass the purely horny stage, and had taken to groping his poor, flustered bandmate in the middle of the bar they’d been in. With a lot of effort, and a lot of blushing and apologizing for his boyfriend’s behavior, Shion had managed to get them home safely.
The white-haired man smiled at the memory. Of course, he had long since learned how to deflect a drunk Nezumi’s advances effectively. and now it was almost entertaining at times. Almost.
Not much later, Shion noticed the way Nezumi’s eyes seemed to be closing more frequently. Finally. The drummer nudged his partner in the side.
“Come on Nezumi, let’s go to bed.”
“‘M not tired. ‘S totally fine,” Nezumi slurred. ‘Of course he would only slur when about to pass out,’ Shion thought with exasperation.
He forced the taller man to stand up, anyway, and let him lean against his body as they traveled the short distance to the bedroom. The guitarist collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, and was asleep in minutes, still clothed. Shion himself took the time to prepare for bed properly, tidying his discarded bags from earlier along the way, and making sure Nezumi was properly secured under the blankets, so he wouldn’t catch a cold overnight.
Finally, he slid into bed beside his lover. He looked at the guitarists peaceful, sleeping expression and gave a small sigh.
“Idiot,” he breathed with a small smile.