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    Summary

    Ringmaster led him down the streets, Grian tripping over his own feet every ten steps. No matter how many times the man beside him tries to tell the vet to focus on where he’s going, he just can’t. Not when the axis on which his world revolves is right here, after not seeing him for a week. After texting and waiting and watching for some form of acknowledgment, just for it to never come, he’s here.
    They eventually made it back to his apartment in a brisk fifteen minutes, instead of the hour it would have taken the drunken man.
    Grian regrettably had to pull apart to reach for his keys—the loud jangling screaming in his ears. When he finally fished them out of his pocket, he looked up to see that the door was already open. Ringmaster had his hand extended, inviting Grian in.
    “I had a mold of your key made,” he said simply. The vet’s heart and cheeks warmed, either from alcohol or the effects of this man.
    ~or~
    This is a Midnight Strangers AU of what if Grian and Scar kissed the night Grian was drunk. What Then?

    Language:
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