“Another late night?” Connor heaved a sigh, propping up on his elbow and squinting in the bright bar of light from the hallway as the door opened and Tully lurched in, the smell of gin and vermouth preceding him like the cloud of perfume on an aging, excessively friendly aunt.

“Sorry…” John muttered, with exaggerated care, sliding his jacket off his shoulder and tossing it in the general direction of one of the study desks. It flopped against the desk, and slid down with a rustle of fabric to the ground. The coat didn’t smell much better than John did, perfumed with other peoples cigarettes and their choices of alcohol. ((John didn’t smoke, it was one of his better qualities)).

“…Mouthwash in the bathroom.” Connor growled, heaving a huge sigh. He would have suggested an shower, but watching John lurch into the room he reasoned that he’d never manage to shower without falling down, and Connor really didn’t feel like picking him up off the shower floor. He wouldn’t have minded seeing his roomie naked… but not unconscious, bleeding and probably wearing boozy vomit.

“Great.” Tully sighed, heading that direction without further concern for his slumped jacket. “Thanks” He added, though in spite of his care it came out slightly more like ‘Thanksh’.

“You know, I’m –amazed- that you’re actually passing your classes with these routine booze fests.” Connor pointed out, feeling indignant. He was working hard to come up with some new variants on recipes for his own classes, and it was irritating that Tully seemed to cruise along so easily. He had to admit the other young man was not only breathtakingly sexy ((And sorrowfully straight, to judge by his fixated interest in girls in tight little cocktail dresses.)) He was also obnoxiously intelligent… at least when he felt like it.

“…Yeah maybe they should make them ch-challenging.” Tully argued, lurching into the bathroom and batting the door shut.
There was a brief silence, then the sound of the mouthwash being swished, gargled, and spit. “…Stupid parties are practically the real subject. ******** Business Management, it’s BOOZE management. Learn how t’ hold a marto..mar… your drinks so you’re the only person at the party not wearin’ a lamp shade, remember what everyone let slip… then use it against ‘em.”

His voice dripped an surprising amount of cynicism for someone his age, and Connor sat up, wondering if he should suggest that Tully consider talking to a guidance counselor… or otherwise try and dig into this impressive well of distain…

“Are you ok? I thought you liked busi…” He stopped, hopping up from the couch as he heard a familiar ‘urk’ from the bathroom. “Damn it, John…”

He really had been hoping to not clean up vomit tonight…