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“You want some or not?” Sloane asked with a snort.

“Fine, but I’m not doing it on an empty stomach. Since you got the booze, I’ll order some food, burgers?”

“Of fucking course.”

Dean grinned, pulling out his phone. “Then burgers it is.”

Sloane hesitated at the door. “I’m not getting any say in the movie, though, am I?”

Dean chuckled. “Not a chance.”

Sloane let out a pitiful sigh but walked away as though accepting his fate. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, glancing back one more time as Dean waited for the burger place to pick up. After days of not having him around, it was a relief beyond anything Sloane had known to see Dean standing in his living room again.

He just wished Dean didn’t look so miserable when he thought Sloane wasn’t looking.

“I seriously getto pick the movie next time,” Sloane complained.

Dean snickered from his cocoon of blankets. “Hell no, this movie is great.”

“I can’t tell if this movie is about vampires or if it’s supposed to be sci-fi. What I do know is the acting is terrible.”

“The fight scenes, though.”

“Cheesy and over the top.”

“They’re amazing, right?”

Sloane knew he wasn’t going to win. When it came to horrible action movies, Dean would never be dissuaded. His love of horror movies, gritty thrillers, and dark musicals was an odd combination. Sloane was perfectly content to curl up and watch anything, a product of years of dealing with whatever his mother or sisters threw on the screen. But if he were given a choice, he would have happily settled in with a nice crime drama or, hell, maybe even a cute animal film.

Dean took another drink, humming happily. “I’ve seen this movie so many times, and I still love it.”

Sloane’s eyes widened. “You’ve seen it?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve pretty much gone through every action movie with a badass bitch in existence.”

Sloane eyed the drink in Dean’s hand. “Badass bitch, huh? How many have you had?”

“As many as you’ve had,” Dean said, his half-lidded eyes triumphant.

If it was anyone else, Sloane might have had a smart comment, but not with Dean. Although Dean couldn’t exactly keep up with Sloane when it came to drinking, he could put away a great deal of alcohol before he became well and truly drunk. Then again, if Sloane was feeling the alcohol buzzing away heavily in his head, he knew Dean had to be even more gone.

“Did we finish it off yet?” Sloane asked, looking down at his empty glass.

“We did, but there’s beer,” Dean proclaimed happily, tipping the glass from side to side with each syllable.

Sloane chuckled. “Yeah, you’re drunk.”

Dean beamed, downing the rest of his drink. “And happy to be.”

Sloane wasn’t going to complain. The shadow that had hung around Dean’s face was long gone, replaced by a pleasant glow. The alcohol had definitely helped, as Dean was always a happy drunk. The night had been perfect. Neither of them had addressed the elephant in the room, content to ignore it while they spent time together as they always did.

Sloane pushed himself up, one hand coming out as he felt the room tilt slightly. Chuckling, he made his way into the kitchen, humming as he opened the fridge and dug out a beer. He contemplated grabbing one for Dean, but if Sloane was wobbling as he walked, he suspected Dean didn’t need anymore.The thing was, if Dean had a drink in his hand, the man would keep drinking, but if he got drunk enough, he would forget about drinking so long as he wasn’t given any. Maybe it was a bit of trickery, but Sloane thought it was the good kind that kept Dean from ending up with one hell of a hangover the next day.

When he entered the living room, Dean had flopped on his side, spread out along the couch. Sloane snorted, stopping at the end where he’d been sitting, now occupied by Dean’s head.

“Really?” Sloane asked.

Dean looked up, wide-eyed. “I’m comfy.”