Reno was drunk. Plastered. Wasted. Seeing double. He was out of commission. He was laying on his couch, there was a low buzzing for noise somewhere around him. Music of some kind from the sounds of it. He had his phone in his hands, holding it high above his face. He shouldn’t have been texting. He honestly shouldn’t have had his work phone. That should have been with his uniform. But there he was, scrolling through his contacts, picking people at random to say shit to. And really, Reno should have known better than to pick Rufus’s name. 

“Hey there sweet thang. What are you doing tonight? Wanna come over and play spin the bottle?”