Sean was drunk by the time Chris ran into him, and it was fairly obvious, from the flush in his cheeks and the unfocussed, glazed quality in his eyes. "You made it," he said slowly, as if he'd actually been afraid Chris wouldn't come. Like Chris would actually just not come. "Hey," Sean added, belatedly.

"Hi," Chris said, and he really hadn't thought he'd be as nervous as he was, because it was just Sean, for Christ's sake, but then, that was actually kind of the problem. Because Sean was straight, right, and wearing a fucking kilt. Fuck. "Haven't seen much of you tonight," Chris said, which was mostly true.

Sean waved a hand and grinned crookedly and Chris flinched. "I've been around," Sean said, and that was also sort of the problem, because "around" meant "not here", which meant not with Chris, which was usually the problem, actually, but when they were in the same room--

"Saving the best for last?" Chris said, and Sean just smiled.

"Sure," he said, and shrugged, and Chris supposed he was going to have to take what he could get.

 

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