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“So what’s the name of that place you're from?” Alfons asked, wavering unsteadily on the sofa. With such trivial things as drinking glasses long since forgotten, he took a sip directly from the large bottle of amber liquid before handing it to Ed. “I don’t remember.”
Ed took a long swig and winced as something akin to fire bloomed in the pit of his stomach. “Risembool,” he replied through a series of light coughs, rubbing at his eyes and doing his damnedest to blink away the burn.
“Ris…em… boooooooooool.” Alfons burst into a fit of surprisingly adorable giggling, followed by an impromptu hiccup. He grabbed onto Ed's thigh to still himself as his wide blue eyes danced with drunken humor. “That sounds funny.”
“No funnier than Munich,” Ed pointed out. His golden eyes flew open suddenly in a flash of genius. “Hey, that rhymes with eunuch… sort of.”
Alfons snatched the bottle from Ed’s hands. “Does not,” he insisted. But after a moment of hazy consideration, he amended himself. “Oh, wait. It does… sort of.”
The two teens began chuckling at their alcohol-infused debate. As the laughter waned, Alfons moaned softly and slid down in the seat. He rested his head on Ed’s shoulder and closed his eyes, hiccupping again. Realizing his mate was slightly worse for wear, Ed relieved Alfons of the bottle and placed it on the stand beside him. He let his cheek settle on top of Alfons’ head and closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose at the soft tuft of blond hair that tickled him. He then wrapped his left arm around the young man and drew him close.
Alfons nuzzled his face into Ed’s neck and kissed him gently. “Welcome to Eunuch,” he murmured.
Ed could sense the curve of a smile against his skin and he felt a wave of adoration run through him, cutting through the dense fog of inebriation.
“Thanks,” he said, tightening his hold on the teen. “I think I’m going to like it here.”