AWOMP-BOMB-ALOOBOMP, ALOOP-BAMBOOM

"Let's play a game." Tyler said, laying on his bed in the doorm, staring at the ceiling.

"What kind of game?" Reid asked from accross the room in the same position.

"I dunno. Anything would be more fun that this."

"Than what? I happen to like memorizing all the tiny little cracks in the ceiling." Reid said sarcastically.

"That makes one of us." Tyler muttered.

"Drinking game?" Reid asked.

"Only if we stay away from the hard stuff and don't go overboard. I'd like to keep my liver, thank you much." Tyler replied.

"Just gotta take all the fun out of it, don't ya?" Reid joked.

Tyler replied with an eyeroll.

"Let's play Twister." Reid then suggested.

"Yeah. Okay. We both know where that's gonna end up." Tyler commented dryly.

"Hide and seek?" Reid tried.

"In our doorms? Yeah right. Only place to go is in the closet. And we once again know exactly where it's going to end up."

"Charades?"

"You suck at that game."

"I suck at other things too." Reid said with a smirk and a seductive wink. Tyler just rolled his eyes.

"Uhhh...Sevens?"

"Drinking game. Thought I covered that." Tyler returned.

"Okay. Sports I'm abnormally good at: Sevens, Quarters, Beer Pong, and I Never." Reid replied.

"There's no way to be good at I Never. Unless you've lived in isolation your entire life." Tyler pointed out.

"You can be very good as long as there's a steady stream of alcohol and you can hold your liquor." Reid shot back.

Tyler just laughed.

"Fine. You've got your wish. Sevens." Tyler replied.

"What? You seriously want to play sevens?" He asked.

"Sure. I'm good enough at math." Tyler said with a shrug.

Reid just grinned.

-------ONE HOUR LATER-------

Reid giggled.

"Would ya just tell me?" Tyler slurred.

"Hold on. Damn numbers won't stop moving." Reid giggled again as he worked with the calculator.

"It's uhhh...Yeah. Multiple of seven. Down it." Reid slurred. He was drunker than Tyler, by more than just a little.

"Are you sure 896 is a seven?" Tyler asked again.

"Yeah. The numbers stopped movin' for a sec. It's a multiple of seven. Now drink." Reid said with yet another giggle.

Tyler downed another cup half full of beer.

"Okay. 897" Reid said.

"Nope. You said seven. Guess again muther fucker." Tyler said with a drunken smile. Reid downed his cup and started to sway back and forth.

"Oh shit. Goin' down." He said as he fell over.

This time it was Tyler who giggled as he picked a Sharpie up from the floor. He looked from the marker and to his boyfriend and then back a few times. He could think of one blonde that would be less than happy with his appearance first thing in the morning, that is, as soon as he got over his killer hangover.

(A/N: Cookies to anyone who can tell me where the title is from and why it fits the story!!!!)