#keep it organized

“Dude, Marie is so hot,” Ransom says. “I’m still hard as a fucking rock.”

“Same,” Holster admits. Though, he’d been watching Ransom more than Marie, if he’s being honest.

God, he should not have admitted that. Even in his own head. He is drunk.

“Wanna finish it up?” Ransom asks. His words are slurring but he seems serious. “We did some great work here today. A threesome for the ages!”

“The ages?” Holster says. 

“Yup,” Ransom continues, nodding up and down in big motions. “Putting it on the excel sheet an’ everythin’”

“You better not.”

“Let’s end it right,” Ransom says, sounding more confident. He sits up on one arm so he is above Holster. “Kiss a little.” He’s just as confident as he leans in. “See what happens.”

“No, I don’t think--” Holster starts.

“Do you not want to?” Ransom asks, jerking back. His eyes are ever so slightly unfocused, but he looks serious enough.

Holster’s mouth goes dry.

Because it’s not that he doesn’t want to.

It’s that he does.

Too much.

He... god, he thinks that maybe- maybe he would prefer if it were just Ransom and no one else and he think that he would prefer it if it was always just him and Ransom and no one else and, god, Ransom’s eyes are beautiful and his cheekbones are beautiful and he is beautiful and--

He doesn’t track the movements. He doesn’t know if he nodded or shook his head or leaned forward or reached for the back of Ransom’s neck and drew him in before or after they started.

All he knows is that they end up kissing. They end up kissing, Ransom hovering over him, his hand along Ransom’s neck, keeping him in place and it’s too uncoordinated to be anything other than sloppy and most of the little details will be lost in the morning.

Holster can’t say how long it lasts. He just know that he closes his eyes and kisses Ransom and then Ransom is pulling away and flopping next to him.

He’s giggling again. 

As if it’s funny.

“Dude, we just kissed,” Ransom says. “Like with tongue.”

He laughs and Holster tries to mimic the sound as best he can.

“Yeah,” he agrees. It comes out hollow so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, for real.”

“For real,” Ransom echoes. “But bedtime?”

“Sounds good,” Holster agrees. Ransom laughs and leans over and kisses Holster on the shoulder and then seems to pass out almost immediately. 

Holster doesn’t. 

He lies awake and wills his heart to slow down and tells himself that the prickling behind his eyes is because he never did get to change his contacts. 

It will be better in the morning, he tells himself.