Drunk Davey because @yunaflxs and @chimckenns have me thinking about it 😋
David is usually the responsible one.
He nurses one drink all night.
Makes sure everyone gets home.
Keeps an eye on the group without anyone even noticing he’s doing it.
So when you walk back from the bathroom and find Milo staring across the room with the widest grin you’ve ever seen, you immediately know something’s wrong.
“…Go collect your husband.”
David is sitting at the table, cheeks faintly pink, listening very intently while Asher explains something with his hands.
Except Asher has stopped talking. About thirty seconds ago.
“…He’s hammered,” Tank whispers, trying not to laugh.
His head turns immediately.
The second he sees you, his entire face lights up.
Like he’d forgotten you were here.
He smiles so broadly it almost doesn’t look like him.
He reaches for your hand immediately.
“I was just thinking about you.”
“You’ve been sitting next to me all night.”
Asher quietly loses it behind his beer.
Ten minutes later you’ve decided it’s definitely time to go home.
Convincing David, however, is another story.
“But everyone’s still here.”
“They’ll still be here next week.”
He considers this. “…That’s true.”
You help him stand. He sways slightly.
Then immediately puts both hands on your shoulders.
“You are… really little.”
“I’m the same height I’ve always been.”
He looks genuinely fascinated.
The walk to the car takes forever.
Not because David can’t walk but Because he keeps stopping to look at things.
At one point he stops completely.
“The moon’s following us.”
You look up. “It usually does that Davey”
The drive home is surprisingly quiet.
David sits in the passenger seat holding your hand the entire way.
Not tightly. Just Constantly.
Every few minutes he looks over at you. Smiles. Looks back out the window. Then repeats the process.
Then he finally breaks the silence with a small voice..”Angel?”
His words are slower than usual.
“You always look after people.”
“I like looking after people.”
“But who looks after you?”
He looks at you for a long moment.
When you get home, getting him inside is surprisingly easy.
Getting him to let go of you isnt as easy.
The second you’re through the front door, he wraps both arms around your waist and just stands there holding you.
“Davey,” you laugh softly.
“We should probably move.”
You bury your face in his shoulder to hide your smile.
Eventually you guide him to the couch and he sat while you stand over him.
As you start moving he looks up at you…“Where are you going?”
“…Oh.” He thinks about it.
“I’ll be thirty seconds.”
The second you return, he’s exactly where you left him except he’s watching the doorway. Waiting.
His face brightens the moment you come back into view. “There you are.”
“I told you I’d be back.”
He says it like he never doubted you. He reaches for you the second you’re close enough. You hand him the water and he drinks obediently then sets it down.
Then reaches for you again.
“I’m literally right here.”
Apparently that’s still not close enough.
Within seconds he’s gently tugging until you’re tucked against his side, your legs over his lap.
“There.” He sighs contentedly. “Perfect.”
“You are ridiculously clingy.”
You play with his hair while he rests his head against yours.
He’s unusually quiet which is surprising considering how he usually only says whats worth saying.
Then, out of nowhere… “I’m really lucky.”
You blink at him almost confused “What brought that on?”
“But you could choose anybody.”
He shakes his head immediately.
The answer comes so quickly it almost startles you.
He looks at you with those heavy-lidded, honest eyes that alcohol has stripped every wall away from.
“I don’t tell you enough.”
“You tell me all the time.”
He reaches up clumsily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I think you’re…” He pauses searching. “…amazing.”
Your eyes immediately drift down trying not to laugh at his cute bluntness.
He gently takes both your hands in his.
“I like… everywhere you are.”
You laugh through sudden tears threatening to form.
“I know.” He smiles sleepily.
“But you know what I mean.” He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours.
“I don’t think I could ever get tired of you and I hope… when I’m old…”
You grin immediately….”You already complain when your knees crack.”
He ignores you completely.
“…I hope you still let me hold your hand.”
You don’t answer with words simply intertwining your fingers with his. He looks down at your joined hands.
“Seriously, where did that sweetness come from?”
He looks at you dead in the eyes, with all the seriousness he can muster up in his drunk haze.
Immediately you burst out laughing at his answer and lean forward to rest your forehead on his shoulder.
