If any of you are lj users, this fic is also being posted on my (new!) ficj ficlette. Check it out!

P.S. Yay for Sohalia for getting this done so quickly. worships

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"S'only my third. Fourth. No, no, that's not right, is it? Don't you… don't you worry your pretty-little-head, Sam. Everything is under con- contr- control." Nick could hear the words being spoken, but found it hard to believe that they were coming out of his mouth. After all, he was a near-calculator when it came to counting, so why did his tongue roll off such unsure numbers? His tongue was feeling very thick tonight, as it was. He was mildly worried that he would suffocate if it took over his whole mouth. To be safe, he had kept his mouth hanging open, hence the concerned question raised by Sam.

Sam always could hold more alcohol than him, and Nick resented the fact. Sam, in fact, could drink any one of their mates under the table, with practiced ease. When asked about the fact, Sam would shrug it off with a simple, 'metabolism.'

At the moment, the celebratory evening was going along smoothly, with most of their dormitory mates getting thoroughly drunk with some smuggled brandy, courtesy of Cooke Minor. Various games were being played throughout the dormitory, but for the most part the young men were simply talking and drinking; enjoying their last few days at Somersby before summer began. Next year would be their last, and a bittersweet tension filled the room, clouded mostly by alcoholic haze. Nicholas loved every minute of it, despite the small voice in the back of his mind (who, ironically, sounded alarmingly like Sam) reminding him of what his head would feel like tomorrow morning. Well, he thought mutinously, sod that voice.

He turned to his left to see the aforementioned Sam deep in conversation with Ted Hopkiss, the notoriously flirtatious and disconcertingly handsome boy who was Sam's batting partner. Nicholas leaned against the wall in feigned nonchalance, and listened to their conversation while discreetly watching them out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm not sure," Sam had been saying, "I haven't really given much thought to it besides getting home. Once I'm there I'll worry about how to spend my summer. No doubt I'll be visiting Nicholas often, at any rate." Nick smiled to himself, but had to force the grimace to stay below the surface when the conversation continued without further mention of him.

"Hmm," Ted replied, sounding like he wasn't completely listening. "You could always visit me, you know. Or I you. I would love to see the Old Kingdom. What is it like up there?"

Sam shrugged. "It's not like Ancelstierre," he said noncommittally, but it was obvious the subject was closed.

"Well then," Ted continued, in a low voice Nick didn't well appreciate, "we'll just stick to you visiting me then, right Sam? You and I would have loads of fun, you know." Ted had slowly been leaning forward, and touched Sam gently on his forearm. Sam looked up skeptically at his companion, but was distracted when a noise to his right brought his attention.

---

Nick hadn't been paying attention to much else, in his inebriated state, except for the conversation in which he was interloping. He had stopped using his peripheral vision a few minutes prior, opting instead to turn fully to face the two boys; the two boys who were, coincidentally, sitting far too close to be considered comfortable.

Nick had been scowling as Ted had talked, and had somehow come away from his wall to stand upright on his own. When Ted had reached out and touched Sam so intimately, so invitingly, Nick stepped backwards in shock.

It turned out that one's balance was slightly off after said person had had a bit to drink, and Nicholas barely realized what was happening when he stepped on a fallen bottle, slipped backwards, and crashed directly into the end table next to the couch.

"Bloody- ow!" he said eloquently, face already burning with embarrassment through his drunken stupor. The boys around him were laughing, but he was too busy worrying about the fact that he had probably just broken every single bone in his body. What helpful mates he had, Nick thought. Not a one had come over to-

A hand was thrust into his view, and his eyes trailed up the arm to the shoulder, to neck, chin, nose… Sam! It was Sam. He always knew he had helpful mates. He took the offered hand gratefully and got to his feet, slightly stumbling on his way, but Sam was there to catch him. Sam looked concerned, and Nick knew what was coming.

"Come on, Nicholas," Sam said with a smile. "Let's get you to bed."

Nick considered briefly refusing, but Sam looked so sincere and the rest of the boys… well they were still laughing at him, so it wasn't much of a choice. Although, to his credit, he did glare daggers at Ted Hopkiss before heading upstairs.

---

Tucked in, somehow clothed in his pyjamas, Nicholas was warm and contentedly drowsy. Sam was sitting at the end of his bed, talking as they normally do most nights. It was comforting, and Nick felt at ease. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, he had surmised later. Even then, he knew it wasn't.

Sam was summing up most of the news of the party – Harry Benlet did what! – when Nick suddenly sat up, looking serious and, for the moment, sober.

"Sam, what were you talking about with Hopkiss?"

Sam looked puzzled. "Nothing really important. Summer plans, mostly. Why?

Nick narrowed his eyes at him, mildly surprised at this welling anger in his chest. "I saw you. You and… and him and… he was…he fancies you, Sam!"

Sam snorted with a laugh. "Don't be silly, Nick. I mean, well, yes, he is known to experiment, but it wasn't like that when I was talking to him. He was being pleasant."

"Pleasant!" Nick cried, "The boy asked you to visit him to 'have fun', Sam. What do you think that means?"

Sam whipped up his head and Nick was momentarily startled. "You were… eavesdropping on me?" he asked accusingly.

"Well, I," Nick started but trailed off. His eyes darted around the room, but as he was tucked in with Sam at the end of his bed he didn't see many means of escape. "I was only looking out for you!" he finished lamely.

Sam looked at him in disbelief.

"Looking out for me? Nick I was having a conversation with a friend. How does that constitute a compromising situation for me?"

"Because he just wants to use you, Sam! He doesn't care about you at all! Not like I do!"

Sam's mouth gaped, at the same time that Nick quickly covered his own, a bit too late. The last thing Nick remembered of that night was Sam's quickly retreating form, and an anguished yell from his own treacherous mouth.