“Hold me up, Jae.”

“I am, you’re just not staying up.”

Daehyun slid to the floor again. “Only ’cuz the ground is comfyyyyyy.” He closed his eyes, pillowed his head on his arms and curled himself round a pillar.

“Doesn’t alcohol tolerance come with a high metabolism?” said Himchan, placing his hands on his hips. He was keeping a safe distance because, he’d decided, a new jacket and projectile vomit did not mix. “Who knew glutton here would be such a lightweight?”

“You’re not exactly a lightweight if you pass out after 10 shots of tequila. I think that’s called being normal.” Youngjae was crouching, slapping Daehyun on the cheeks. It only seemed to make Daehyun smile wider.

Himchan looked down at his dongsaengs. This was not the night he had planned.

“So, um, Youngjae. What do you wanna do now? It’s your 19th birthday! You’re an adult now! The world is your oyster!” he said, hoping enthusiasm could make up for foiled plans. There was no way they were making it to the club with Daehyun like this.

“I dunno, hyung. It’s only 8 o’clock. I dunno if there’re many places you can carry him to. And me and Jonguppie have to be home at 10.” Junhong said.

“Christ. Whose big idea was it to have dinner at a place that serves tequila??”

“Yours, hyung,” the dongsaengs said.

Himchan felt defensive. He had thrown out a lot of suggestions; they couldn’t expect him to remember all of them.

“It was one of many options. You didn’t have to pick it,” he sniffed. No one retorted. That was one upside of Daehyun being unconscious - there was no one to talk back at him. “Anyway, this doesn’t solve our problem. Where do you wanna go now, Youngjae?”

Youngjae was still crouched on the floor, looking at Daehyun. “Home, I think.”

“WHAT?”

“Home,” Youngjae repeated. “Come on, let’s get him up.”

~

“I’m ssssorry, Jae.” Daehyun burped. It didn’t smell good.

“Nevermind. A birthday’s just a day. We can celebrate another time.” He had Daehyun draped over his shoulder as he walked into the dorm room. The other guys were staying out till the maknaes’ curfew; they had to meet Yongguk for his dinner anyway. Yongguk had stayed late at the recording studio.

“I agree. Urp.” Daehyun burped again. “People kept telling me, ‘You can drink already!’ and I kept telling them nooooooo.”

Youngjae was confused. “But you’ve been drinking for half a year now.”

Daehyun shook his head vigourously. “No I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.” Youngjae was really frowning now. “You’ve been going out at night with the hyungs.”

“TWICE,” said Daehyun, bringing up two fingers and nearly poking Youngjae in the eye. “Don’t you know me at ALL,” He swung an arm out, falling backwards, and Youngjae had to lunge to catch him.

“And I didn’t drink one drop.” Daehyun shook his head, more slowly and emphatically this time. “Not one drop.”

“Why?” Daehyun was so unfathomable sometimes. Youngjae often wondered if there was a brain between his ears.

“Because.” Daehyun swung round so he was in front, holding himself up with arms around Youngjae’s neck. He tilted his face up to look at Youngjae. There was a loose smile on his face, and his large eyes glittered like sparks in the dark moonlight. “I was waiting for you.”

Youngjae could smell the alcohol on his breath. But it didn’t smell like earlier. It smelled sweet, like piercing sugar, and it was travelling up to his mind in a thick haze. Youngjae felt the floor tipping, like the world was tilting forwards …

Daehyun moved away. Youngjae blinked.

“It’s no fun with the hyungs. They get wasted and start whispering to each other and making jokes I don’t understand.” Daehyun sounded grouchy now. They had reached the beds, and Youngjae dumped Daehyun unceremoniously on his.

“I was so excited tonight, after months of waiting … but I think I overdid it,” Daehyun burped again. “Mmhurayyybe.”

“Maybe.” Youngjae sighed. He didn’t know what to do with this guy.

“Happy birthday, Jae. I’m sorry I ruined it.”

Youngjae smiled. “Happy birthday to us.”