"Yeah?"
When Dom was sure the can was going to stay put, he chanced a look at Billy. Billy was lounging on the couch next to him, holding his beer in a dangerously loose grip, and staring at the ceiling. He was utterly pissed; Dom was certain of it.
"Yeah," Dom said. "Look at this." He gestured at the crooked line of cans on the table, most of them empty. "Guinness in a can. Can't even get a fresh pint of it here."
Billy giggled, almost humourlessly. It was a drunk laugh. "Oh," he said, "aye. But we could've got something else if you'd wanted."
Dom hesitated. "True," he said, finally, when he was sure he understood what Billy had said. "But," he went on, "I didn't want. And I don't want. And-- hold on." He reached for his beer again, and was surprised at how light it was; there couldn't have been more than half left. He didn't remember drinking that much from this one, but then, it was a little hazy.
"Okay," he said again. "We're making a resolution right now." He looked at Billy. Billy had turned his head slightly, so he was facing Dom, but his eyes were slits and Dom wasn't even sure he was awake. "Billy?"
"I'm listening," said Billy.
"Okay," said Dom. He looked at his beer, and took a drink. He said, "I should get a glass."
Billy giggled again. "That's your resolution?"
"No! No no no," Dom said. "I was just thinking, dead Guinness in a glass has got to be better than dead Guinness in a can. Don't you think?"
"I don't think I can," Billy said.
"What?"
"Think," said Billy. He grinned at Dom, and turned his head again, so he was looking at the ceiling again. "Never mind."
"Okay," said Dom. "Okay, I've got to stop saying that. But we're not celebrating next year in America, okay? Okay. Fuck."
"Okay," Billy said.
Dom nodded resolutely, and finished his beer. He didn't bother trying to put it back on the table, because he was quite sure he'd never make it. Instead, he dropped the empty can on the floor. "That's my resolution," he said.
"I'm in."
Dom was silent for a long moment. He considered getting another beer, but that would require getting up, and he wasn't too sure about his balance just now, and he didn't think he wanted to risk it. Billy was still, and again Dom didn't know if he was awake or not. But he hoped Billy was, because Dom couldn't think of a worse way to spend New Years: drunk on dead beer before midnight even struck, with his best friend passed out next to him, in bloody America of all places.
"This sucks," said Dom.
"That's a good idea," Billy said, and abruptly sat up. Dom nearly fell off the couch.
"What?" he asked warily.
Billy rubbed his eyes, and then looked at Dom. "How much time have we got? It's not tomorrow yet, is it?"
"No," Dom said.
"Oh, good," said Billy. He looked around the room, and dropped his beer on the floor. Dom hoped it was empty. "I've got a resolution, then."
"Okay," Dom said.
Billy reached for another beer. "Yeah," he said, and cracked open the can. "I'm going to start being honest."
Dom looked at him. Billy was smiling again, and Dom couldn't figure out if he was being serious or not, because it just seemed too strange to think that Billy was ever not honest.
"Are you serious?" Dom asked.
Billy made a noncommittal kind of noise, and slung an arm across Dom's shoulders. His fingers curved around Dom's arm, and Dom momentarily felt like he couldn't breathe, like if he did, Billy would let go. But he didn't even know why it would matter if Billy did.
Dom turned towards Billy, and from so close, he realised that Billy was much more alert than he'd given him credit for. There was that smile pulling at Billy's mouth, but Dom didn't think there was much amusement in his eyes. Drunkenness, maybe, but something else as well.
"Okay," Dom said.
"Starting tomorrow," Billy said, and then he let go.