As soon as the door is fully closed, shouts of slightly slurred greetings rumble through the room, and Will's infamous grin spreads across his face. Slinging off his heavy winter coat, he hangs it on the coat pole by the door and is engulfed by a crowd of men, many who have known him since he was a young boy causing trouble and making a ruckus wherever he went. Lincoln hangs back for a minute, feeling the divide that a year and a half apart had left between them, but soon finds himself rushing into the crowd, ending up right behind Will. Smirking, he smacks the back of Will's head, a gesture more from habit and muscle memory than from conscious thought. Immediately, Will freezes and a low chuckle rumbles out from his throat.

"Ten shillings if the bastard behind me isn't Lincoln Hanod himself," Will says, his eyes lighting up when he turns and sees Lincoln.

Will's hands land excitedly on Lincoln's shoulders and he has a sudden empathy for what a child's doll must go through, being shaken back and forth with almost frenzied joy.

"I haven't seen this sorry sight for over two years, and damn do I miss it!"

"Will, you've only...been gone for a...year and a half, stop...being a drama queen!" Lincoln stutters out, playfully knocking Will's hands off his shoulders so he can breathe.

Will feigns offence at the removal of his hands but his look of hurt smoothly transitions into one of mock seduction, "But Lincoln, my love, any time away from you feels like an eternity!"

Lincolns amusement is accompanied by deep laughter around them, and he sees the men slap Will on the back with familiarity

"Damn s'it good ta 'ave ya back, boy," a voice rumbles from somewhere behind Lincoln, and he couldn't agree more.

"Is it good enough for a round, on you?" Will slyly questions, his face spreading into another grin.

Lincoln jerks his eyes away, surprised at how happy the sight makes him, choosing to place them on the man from before, seeing with a jolt that it was the owner of the taproom, Hugh.

"Why not three rounds!" he shouts, much to the approval of the group.

Lincoln mutters a curse under his breath at the announcement. *As if I haven't already had enough to drink. Well, if I can still think this clearly, I might as well have another go*