“Kipp, do you know how many times I've fucked people in this kitchen? In the living room? In my car?” he cooed lowly.  

“For some reason, I feel sick.” I covered my mouth, scowling at him. 

“Aw~?” he stuck his tongue out. “Don’t worry,” he turned to the fridge, rumaging around.  

“Kenji would be pissed.” I sighed deeply. 

“She won’t know~!” he hummed, handing me a glass of cold water. “Here,” 

“Hm.” I stared at it.  

“Drink." he sternly said. 

“I...” I trailed off, drinking down the water in a few gulps. “I want alcohol...” I sighed. 

“After you drink that.” he pointed to my half-full glass. “I don’t wanna drink beer...” he huffed. “I’ve got a 50-50 of being emotional.”  

“Well, what do we got?” I set my empty glass down. “I’ve never been drunk on beer-” 

“Well, we have a bit of vodka left from the last game.” he pulled a bottle out. “Back up beer?” he grinned, handing two cans to me. “C’mon,” he tapped my shoulder, walking to the living room. 

“What’s your plan?” I followed, feeling awkward being naked in someone else’s home.  

“C’mon,” he repeated, setting the bottle down. “Let’s just drink.” he hummed softly, sitting on the couch.  

“You sure it’s ok to sit down naked?” I grit my teeth.  

“I bought this couch!” he stated. “C’mere.” he patted the space beside him. “Want a blanket~?” 

“Yes, I do.” I huffed, sitting down. “This is weird...” I grabbed the blanket he passed to me, laying it over the both of us. 

“How’s it weird? Don't you and your homeies sit naked together after a nice fuck and drink~?” he grinned, taking a swig of the vodka. “Shy~?” he teased. 

“I’m sorry, but this is the first time I’m doing this!” I snatched the bottle from him. “It’s-!” I tipped my head back, glugging the entire thing. “Hah-!” I gasped slightly. “It’s all very new to me, thank you very much!” 

“K-Kipp...” he laughed weakly. “You drank the whole thing~!” he whined.  

“That wasn’t very much.” I frowned. “Maybe 5 shots worth.” I shrugged.  

“...Pass me the beer...” he groaned, reaching out.  

“You’re a lightweight.” I stated, handing him a can. “I don’t like the taste of beer.”  

“How come?” he hummed, taking a long draw of his drink. 

“Tastes like fermenting wheat. That's what it is.” I shrugged. 

“Hm.” he frowned. “I’ll make you like it.” he huffed.