"It's six o'clock in the morning; you are not having vodka," said Dave, rolling his eyes as he pulled the bottle out of Sebastian's hands.

"Look, it's not my fault kickoff is at 11. If they didn't want me to start drinking before sunrise, they should have made sure the game starts after lunch," Sebastian argued.

"You could've picked a different weekend to visit," Dave pointed out.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll be back," Sebastian promised. "Now that I know college football games are just an excuse to drink all day and insult strangers, I've decided to be a football fan."

Dave groaned. "You're going to get us into a fight with someone from the other school, aren't you?"

Sebastian shrugged, snatching the vodka bottle back from Dave and taking a swig. "Too early to tell. I'll keep you posted."

"Now I need a drink," Dave said, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a beer. "Okay, are you ready to head out and join the tailgating?"

Sebastian crinkled his nose. "I'm only, like, three sips into this bottle. And you opened your first beer literally ten seconds ago. We need more time to pregame!"

"But tailgates are pregames," Dave argued. "You don't pregame the pregame!"

Sebastian looked him up and down judgmentally. "Maybe you don't."

"Come on, Seb," Dave said, grabbing his hand. "Let's head out to the quad. Some of the tents will probably have food they'll share with us."

Sebastian shrugged. "Is food really a priority? We just had breakfast."

"We'll need to eat again before the game," Dave said. "And yes, if you're going to keep drinking straight vodka, I'm going to try to keep you fed."

"I don't know, I'll probably be okay until after the game – we can go to that Mexican place for lunch. Since it starts at 11, the game has to be over by … what, 12:30? 1?"

Dave laughed. When Sebastian looked confused, his laughter abruptly stopped. "Oh, you were serious."

"We don't have to go to the Mexican place. Are you more in the mood for Thai?" Sebastian asked.

"Babe, most football games last for at least three hours. And then it's going to take a while to get out of the stadium. There's no way we're getting to the Mexican place before 4.

Sebastian paled. "So where did you say that tailgate was? What kind of food do you think they'll give us?"

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

"How can I already be hung over? It's still today," Sebastian complained. He slouched over the table, resting his head on one hand and holding a slice of pizza in the other.

"You weren't hydrating during the game. Rookie mistake," Dave chided.

"It's their fault," moaned Sebastian. "If they didn't want me to stop drinking, they shouldn't have taken my flask away at the gate."

Dave snorted. "I meant hydrating with water, but okay."

"A bottle of water costs like eight dollars inside a stadium. I'm not paying eight dollars for water unless it's sparkling, in a crystal glass, from a mountain spring in France." Sebastian paused. "Also, I forgot water was a thing."

"Don't worry. I'll take better care of you next time, now that I know you are completely incapable of taking care of yourself," Dave said, leaning over to kiss the top of Sebastian's head.

"Good," said Sebastian, putting his pizza down and leaning into Dave's shoulder, "because I'm going to need even more help when I'm here next week."

"Why's that?" asked Dave, raising his eyebrows.

Sebastian smirked. "Next week, the game doesn't start until 7. Imagine how much more I can drink with eight extra hours to prepare!"

"I'll stock up on Advil and Pedialyte," Dave sighed.

Sebastian smiled and snuggled closer. "My hero."

"You're impossible. You know that, right?"

"You love me," said Sebastian with confidence.

"I want to strangle you 99 percent of the time," Dave said, putting his arm around Sebastian.

"But you love me," Sebastian said again.

"Yeah," Dave smiled. "Yeah, I do."

"Love you too," Sebastian said sleepily. "So … is it too early to start making jello shots for next week?"

A/N: Prompt(s): "It's six o'clock in the morning, you're not having vodka" and "I want to strangle you 99% of the time."