The second night in the hotel room, something happened that really changed the course of the night.

Baker got drunk.

Abraham had accompanied Parker to the pool, leaving Barkovitch to huddle in the closet to play Temple Run because apparently the kid had been emotionally scarred or whatever by the fact that they'd pushed the beds together last night on half-asleep Baker's request, and while he was gone, Baker had somehow gotten ahold of some alcohol. And gotten pretty damn drunk.

Abraham suspected Harold Quince had sold it to him – Quince had a reputation for getting ahold of things he wasn't supposed to have and selling them to poor, unsuspecting, innocent students.

The pool had been great – after getting kicked off the slide for pushing each other down it backwards they'd chilled in the hot tub – well, Abraham had chilled, Parker had been less than chill. In other words, he'd said so many curse words the pool started to empty of children. And then at eleven, they'd headed back to the room, t-shirts slung over their shoulders, Parker looking impressive and Abraham skinny and pale.

When they'd gotten back to the room, they were faced with the scene of Baker trying to pull Barkovitch out of the closet, Barkovitch holding onto the closet doors for dear life. Parker snorted. "What's up, Baker?"

"He won't come out," Baker said, looking up at them with such a wide-eyed innocence that, to be honest, Abraham's heart fucking melted. "And I want to cuddle."

Then Abraham noticed the empty bottles, the first few in the trash and the rest… well, near the trash, like he'd cared enough to try to get them in, but hadn't quite made it. "Oh shit," he muttered. Parker followed his gaze and blinked.

"Didn't ya save any for us, Baker?" he asked, kneeling down beside Baker and the absolutely terrified Barkovitch and prying baker's arms from Barkovitch's waist. Baker made a small noise of protest, but stood up, swaying a little on his feet. "Goddam."

"I'm… s- I'm sorry," Baker said, switching that cute, innocent look to Parker. He looked like he was about to fall over any second now.

Nobody could even pretend to stay mad at Baker, Abraham realized with a sort of amusement as Parker's look softened. "Nah, it's fine," he said. "M' dad drinks enough for the both of us."

Baker smiled, and he looked so childish and happy that, once again, Abraham thought that his heart was about to fucking melt. And then he grabbed Parker's t-shirt, which was hanging loose around his neck like a towel, and pulled him down. And kissed him.

Abraham watched, a bit stunned.

Barkovitch voiced his surprise. "What the fuck?" His voice was high, near cracking, and he was huddled in the back of the closet.

"I'm with you, Barkobitch," Abraham said. Parker wouldn't mind if he stole his nickname for the little prick. "Uh. Baker. You okay?"

"I just… I just wanna kiss everybody in the world," Baker said, sliding down, still holding onto Parker's t-shirt like reins. "'Cept you Abe. You're too handsome."

"Hey!" Parker objected. "I'm way more handsome than that ginger freak."

"Excuse me," Abraham said. "But ginger freak is standing right here."

"You're not a freak," Baker said, shaking his head overenthusiastically and moving away from Parker to collapse into Abraham, smoothing down his hair. "But you are very very very giner. I mean ginger."

"Yep," Abraham said. He was feeling increasingly more uncomfortable every second.

"Well," Parker said. "I think it's time to get to bed."

In one fluid motion he picked up Barkovitch from the closet, ignoring Barkovitch's shriek of protest, and threw him over his shoulder, making for the bed. Abraham maneuvered Baker for the bed, guiding him gently and pushing him onto the bed. Baker latched onto Barkovitch immediately, who looked even more terrified.

Abraham looked at Parker, who shrugged and collapsed onto the bed, stretching his arm over Barkovitch and grabbing Abraham's arm, yanking him down, too. Abraham grabbed the blankets from the foot of the bed and awkwardly covered them all, seeing as his right hand had been the one Parker had grabbed and he had to twist weirdly to get the blankets.

Thank God for the fact that, as well as being ginger, he was left-handed. Two minorities right there, where's his free college.

"Alright," Parker said after a brief pause. Baker was asleep, clutching Barkovitch and capturing Abraham's legs with his own in a weird position. Baker sure was flexible. "Who wants to shut off the goddam lights."

"I will-"

"You'll stay right there, closet boy," Parker said. "If you get up this cute little dickhead'll wake up, and who knows what'll happen then."

He reached over and ruffled Baker's hair when he said 'cute little dickhead', and Abraham rolled his eyes. What a weirdo.

"Well," Abraham said. "Your cute little dickhead has me trapped, so it's up to you."

"Fuck you, cute little dickhead," Parker muttered, getting up to shut off the lights. "Well. Night, all of you."

short, yes

fluffy

not sure what's going on

but

it just sort of happened