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Summary
"Then again, Scott was supposed to be drunk. And he wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon with these rampant thoughts racing through his head. So without thinking about it further, Scott wrapped his arm around Wallace’s middle and pulled them together until they were spooning. Everything was warm and comfortable. He could tell Wallace had showered earlier, the fresh fruity scent of his shampoo pleasantly filling Scott’s face as he burrowed into Wallace’s neck.
He was met with an indignant squeak, but not much resistance. “Guy, you good?” Wallace asked into the dark, probably trying to figure out how drunk Scott was. The smell, the closeness, everything was driving Scott mad. Maybe he was, in fact, more drunk than he thought. Why else would he be so brazen like this? Instead, he just burrowed further into that smooth neck, breathing in. Wallace tensed, and Scott knew he needed to knock it off or he was about to be evicted, drunkenness be damned."