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A slightly muzzy look for the pet name, brief narrowing of soft pink orbs sent Gilmore’s way for being called *kitten* of all things? Worked over the feel of it, before settling on the idea that it was acceptable. Kittens had claws after all - cute - likable creatures. Let it settle in the cotton of his thoughts, flush of color for being so easily moved here or there, sat near enough to be allowed to keep leaning on the man like the sturdy thing that he was.

Solid as a brick.

Warm - and any other time he’d have griped about the tacky wet mist of sweat. Except he was no better off, couldn’t be seen throwing rocks through his own mental glass house at others.

Instead he nodded along, took the advice on water as sage, as wisdom from the experienced. Soaked up the knowledge like he soaked up the heat that billowed off of Gilmore’s body, the man a furnace, and he - apparent kitten? More than happy to press his side against it as the water bottle was pressed into his hands.

Cold against his skin, and who knew that drinking so much could make one so thirsty?

Initial flinch at the touch of fingers to his forehead - because eww - who touched sweaty hair? Allowed it only because he didn’t want to do it himself, felt good to have it out of his eyes, and his hands were very preoccupied with remembering how to hold things without spilling them on himself…

“You’re very - uhm…” big, kind, sweet, b i g. Blinked owlishly like he’d lost the tail ends of his thoughts. “Thank you…” for the rescue, the dance, the drinks.

Slow peek of pink tongue as he remembered that yes, water was important and he should be drinking it. Sought more until he’d drained the thing like he’d been coaxed to do..

Lidded gaze that traced every little flicker of movement on Gilmore’s face, had him cooing appreciatively when the man stretched, bitten off little noise of ‘oh’ because that looked pleasant - stretched his tank nicely across the muscle beneath it, such solid muscle and…and Mier realized that his everything buzzed. His skin, his face and the preceding numbness that was tingly and pleasant across his whole body.

Fresh air? Fresh air sounded good right then. Sounded perfect even. A break from the blare of lights and noise.

Even when Gilmore posed it like a question - he found he was nodding again, saying yes regardless. Fresh fawn with new legs underneath himself for the first time, clung, and wanted for fresh air - outside - an exit. To be moving, because sitting was becoming a very spinny experience. Everything was becoming an experience in equilibrium and balance.

“Outsides nice…” and smoking was something he’d never tried. Had always thought it’d looked nice, enjoyed the earthen and clove smell.

Found a way to keep himself halfway plastered against Gilmore’s side, like he was afraid losing the mans sturdy form would bring about his undoing. Though it’d most likely bring about the consequences of gravity. A brief idea flashed through his head, of Gilmore simply varying him everywhere; filthy grin for that, because it’d resolve all of his gravity related issues surely. That? And he would’ve enjoyed it immensely, found that there was some odd sort of appeal in being cared for so easily by someone else. Nice large man…

“Ah-ah, it’s my ‘second time’, thank you very much...” preened, as he had to correct him. Sighed openly with the breeze feeling nice, scent of something sweet in the air of it. The sensation as a whole easing the heat and cooling everything enough that he felt he could speak. Knew it was better to do it now than over the din coming from inside.

Had no compunctions about leaning into the supportive grip, a slight shiver for where the fingers splayed, for how large the hand was. Mier cautiously laid his hand over Gilmore’s, gentle scritch of nails, let the pads of his fingers pet over the mans knuckles. A soft warning, for all that he *wanted* things. Wanted a great deal many things. Didn’t move to dislodge him though. No point in it when he needed him right there where he could shamelessly enjoy it without also falling on his face with every pushy sway of the breeze. Knew he might just have if he hadn’t had Gilmore there as an anchor.

“Good sofar- a few, hah, hiccoughs here and there..” overall good, overwhelmingly good, and he *wanted*. “Can I? Try the -“ well it wasn’t a cigarette certainly so “the smoke? Oh, the vape…Does it taste as good as it smells?” Innocuous questions, a harmless request, and he wanted to know what it tasted like - if it was fun - wanted even more to share another indirect kiss.

Thought of earlier, when he’d tried the mans drink; endless little instances of sharing in things. Might've called it a perfect night for that alone.

"I've goals for things, s'all one of many..many..many..outings. " a solemn serious nod, and scoff at Gilmores surprise because he was just gettin started! Though the severity was lost completely with the way his head lolled softly, listed a little loosely on his shoulders, as his eyes remained closed just a second longer, like he was fighting off the lull of the pleasant soak of alcohol running through his system. That had him feeling *good* - pliant and easy to speak with and straight up good. From the tips of his toes to the tail of his braid type good, everything sung, and that made him happy.

"I don't-I don't do anything, haven't had the chance, and isn't that-isnt that sad? So, I'm correcting it by -ah- doing all the things now." going to the n'th degree with it because he wanted everything and he wanted it right then and there, presented to him on a silver platter, the whole of the world and the people in it and the experiences he could gain from comingling with them in the ways he wanted most.

Let his words drift slightly as his gaze followed the smoke, little 'oh' and the shape of his mouth a soft circle as he imagined how it would look if he could breath smoke and fire. A dragon instead of a kitten, to look so good doing such a thing. Mier cared little for what was in it, it was the aesthetic, visual appeal, and he wanted to know how it felt to have such things - to smoke and drink and just? Even if he never craved for it again, to say that he had, so ten years from now he could have that conversation with himself and know it'd not all be a waste of life, that he'd made choices and had fun outside of being a well groomed into adulthood type. Crack the mold just a little bit.

"I like it, the smell, and it's pretty~" he could've watched Gilmore breath it in and furl it free forever. Wanted to taste it because the sight alone was mesmerizing. Paid attention enough to follow instructions, clumsily, but it was a simple machine, wiggled slightly in Gilmores firm grasp, eager and grateful all in one that Gilmore was actually giving him a chance at things. To hold it in his hand, fire and smoke, place his lips around the tip and pull at it, feel the warmth and smell how nice it was, like cereal, like candy.

Mier sucked the smoke in - and immediately choked for his efforts, coughed little clouds of white that made his eyes water slightly with how unexpected it'd been. Apparently swallowing smoke was hard...ah..or breathing it...or..what was he supposed to have done with it again? "W-wait wait - ah - uhm, one more time." soft plea because he did want to see if he could do it right, challenged himself to the notion of managing to at least do as well as Gilmore had shown him to do.

"Nn-oh, you don't..hhhf.." a soft huff of exasperation as his little coughing fit subsided. Left him sucking in a few deeply pleasing breaths while he watched and longed with all of himself to be able to do that trick with the lovely wisps of clouds that floated freely into the air. To lick the pretty-pretty smoke out of Gilmores mouth, because it hadn't tasted bad. Let him feed it to him and see if he managed it better that way. Realized with an amused sigh at himself that he would've - that it was something he could indeed do.

The choking part was - merely an unfortunate side-effect of his inexperience - but overall, not truly a deterrent. Not when Gilmore looked like something earthen and ancient with it billowing from his nostrils; like a sleeping volcano of a man.

"I'm going to-to have all these responsibilities, and ah..jobs..or..college..I-this is a window? I'm jumping out my window of opportunity, before it shuts me into the-the box?" his own self made box, because he wanted to do well at life, wanted achievements and accolades. To feel emboldened to make the sorts of decisive choices that would lead to such things. He didn't know how much room that left him for everything else, and so was going to take as much of what he could get now - in the free floating span of time that existed before the sill of the window came down on the back of his neck.

Huffed another small laugh over his stumbling words as he leaned into the warm rumble of Gils' side, budged up closer to make the watching easier. Soft little 'ohs' of sound, a high breathy noise and as he curled his fingers around the large ones that kneaded at the flesh of his hip and thigh pleasantly. Could do nothing, but shiver encourageably, and pet with slow easy drag of nails over the skin of his perfect hand, because that felt nice.

Would be easy - could be - felt very easy right now in all sorts of ways. Easy enough that he didn't die of coughing as he tried the sweet little vape again. Gentle pull instead of lungful's, let it sit in his mouth and roll over his tongue before he breathed it out in a trailing wisp of smoke - coughed only on the end - around a smile, because hew as proud of himself for getting even that far with it.

"You can take me home..." words like stones and how easily they fell with the gravity of his breathing. Squinted at himself for having the gall to say them - wondered if that was how he meant it. He was hungry now though, and tired, and couldn't have found his way to the front door - let alone the front step - let alone off of the bus...

Realized his error in planning this the way he had. Everyone else made drinking look so easy though, effortless, no one explained how little it took to leave one swaying pleasantly heavy through the fog of what came after the drinking. How tying his own shoes would've been a chore at that point - if he'd had laces to tie...

"Or- ah..to sleep?" wasn't sure if that sounded any better. Thunked his forehead against the broad stroke of Gilmores chest and sighed at his utter lack of coherency. Begged the man read his mind, or simply do thing's, or even....

Smacked a large bicep absently, cooed at the width of the thing and pet it instead. "I'm uh..I'm very-very-*that*...smashed? Yess, but those were my goals! I'm tired of doing all the choices, all the time." his tone almost petulant, he wanted to let someone else decide things for him for awhile. Work out the details, the particulates, work out how he'd get himself home, or onto a couch. Swallowed around the realization of his utter error in not putting forethought into all of this before he'd ever stepped out of his home.

Being drunk was soo...oh soo nice, to for once not have the worry over the fact that he 'hadnt' anticipated needing to prepare more thoroughly. That was a worry for sober Mier. Drunk Mier? Would look up at Gilmore with pleading eyes and a soft smile that was as good as a shrug.

"Your's, s'easier?" Mier thought so, thought to let the man who could better text out his own address get them to it, was sure anything he tried to spell or put into writing - even digitally - would've been autocorrected into nonsensicalness. Besides, a sleep over sounded fun. Spending time in someone else's space, a very nominal experience, one more thing he could add to his lists of wants, and check off for having gotten to have.

"The uhm -pfft- you know, like you said? Just, yes, to sleep." blew a puff of frustrated air at his lack of phrasing, and nodded along, an agreement of sorts. He couldn't remember when his last sleep over had been, but the barracks and dorm like living spaces of the school were very similar to that sort of thing anyways. He could manage it, just sleeping, only sleeping. Finding a little bit of warmth on a couch to curl up on. Gossiping into the night, tripping over slurs of words and sentences, playing dressup as he shared the others clothes. Sounded like fun to his fuzzy thoughts, like good memories and the sort of thing that would lead to shared breakfasts. Better certainly than waking up alone in his own space.

"All the yess. So long as I don't have to walk anywhere..I..ah..I don't think I'd make it.." not in the heels on his feet or the legs that toed heavy at the concrete and asphalt below, that would only lead him swaying into an eagerly awaiting bush or stumbling down a sidewalk like a feckless fumbling thing...

No, no, no, better to let Gilmore handle it all. Smart man, big smart man. Very lean-able even, great comfort for Miers tired head; to just leave it resting against him as he breathed.