Alfred searched the cabinets for lime juice. "Mm, yeah, Mum, just be safe, yeah? I'm sure the plows will get most of it soon. 'Sides, it's only for tonight." Finally—his parents had hidden it in the fridge.

"I suppose… Alright, I love you! Make sure you lock all the windows. And Alfred?"

Now, all Alfred had to do was find the cranberry juice…

"Yeah, Mum?"

"Whatever you do, don't go in the fucking liquor cabinet."

Alfred froze, the smell of cheap alcohol pouring out of the cupboard. Never mind that, Alfred thought, hanging up the phone and collecting the different drinks he would need.

"Dude, you have to come over! I'm making Scorpion Bowls!" Alfred cradled his phone, dumping vodka into the pitcher of cranberry juice. "It's not even snowing that bad, you live like, three doors down. Just walk."

"Alfred, I have the history readings to do for Monday," Kiku answered quickly.

"It's Friday and I have alcohol. Come onnn…"

Kiku could pretend all he wanted, but Alfred knew the other teen would rather play videogames. That and the fact his parents were crazy pyschos who pressured Kiku way too much drove him out of the house more often than he would like. It was a good thing Alfred was an awesome friend.

"Look, just one drink, then you can go home and school."

Alfred could hear the indecision. Oh, he had Kiku now. After being dragged to numerous house parties by Alfred, Kiku had built up a decent tolerance for alcohol. One teeny drink wouldn't do much. And, like Alfred had said, Kiku only lived a few doors down.

"I make a mean Scorpion Bowl."

Kiku sighed. "I will stay for one hour, have one drink, and then go home."

"Sweet!"

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Alfred hurried over, a drink in his hand.

"Shit, it's really blowin' out there!" Alfred stuck his head out the door after Kiku had entered. "Fuck, it's cold!" Really fucking cold. Alfred hated the winter. He slammed the door, handing Kiku the pink drink.

Kiku shrugged off his coat. He looked tired—his English teacher had given him two essays in one week. Still, Alfred wasn't going to allow Kiku's busy schedule to affect bro bonding time.

"The Xbox?"

Kiku nodded, heading upstairs. "The Xbox."

Fucking A! Alfred grabbed the pitcher of alcohol and followed after Kiku. They set up their gaming station—two beanbags five feet away from the television—and settled in. Alfred sucked down the last of his second drink and hit the power button.

The lights went out.

"Oh, fuck me!"

Even in the gloom, Alfred could see Kiku's grin.

Alfred threw his controller, making sure it hit his bed. "Well, great! That's awesome. I didn't want to beat the damn owl-alien level, anyways. Dude, have another drink. I think I have some candles or a flashlight downstairs."

Alfred returned, candles and a lighter in hand. Kiku had dug up Monopoly—the bane of snow and thunder storms—and had gotten another drink. He set up the board as Alfred set up the candles, cursing as he burned himself. Fucking dark. Stupid snow storm.

"I'm the racecar," Alfred said, collapsing onto the bean bag. "And don't cheat. I know you do. I shouldn't let you be the banker," Alfred whined, reaching for the pitcher of alcohol. "Ridiculous."

"Maybe you shouldn't fail all your math classes," Kiku said, taking a sip of his drink. "You want to go first?"

Things progressed as they usually did. Kiku slowly bought more and more property, enraging Alfred the more he got drunk. Alfred nearly spilled his drink, rolling off of the beanbag and pointing at the stack of money by Kiku's side.

"You just took an extra money! I saw you!" Alfred army-crawled across the board, attempting to steal back his money. "You cheating—" He burst into giggles, head dropping into Kiku's lap.

Kiku laughed, pushing away Alfred's head and trying to rearrange the board. "You always do this when you lose! Alfred, Alfred, sit up, stop wiggling, please, I'm trying to—" The giggles stopped, and Alfred looked up. "What time is it?"

Alfred groaned, stopping his squirming. "Come on, just sleep over. It's still freakin' snowing out there. You're going to be like one of those old people who disappear in the snow. Sleep over."

Kiku stood, stumbling slightly. He straightened his back and took a deep breath. Oh, he was so wasted. That one drink had morphed into one moreone more. And one more. And now Kiku sounded like he had fallen down the last few stairs.

Alfred laugh-snorted and stood, following Kiku and practically tumbling down the stairs. "Oh, my God, Kiku, get your coat off. We can play more Monopoly come on," he dragged out the words, attempting to steal Kiku's coat off of his back.

"Alfred, stop, my mother is going to worry about me. Alfred, get away from the door." Kiku laughed into his hand, nudging Alfred with his foot. "Please. My father is going to be furious."

"Yeah, but, it's cold out there." Alfred got on his knees, hugging Kiku close and grinning. "And it's so warm in here." Then again, they had two hours with no power. "We can make it warm. Jesus—your hands are freaking ice cubes! Get them off of my neck!"

Kiku nearly buckled at the knees, grinning, running his hands down Alfred's back under his shirt. Outside, a snowplow passed by, illuminating the living room orange. Alfred buried his face in Kiku's stomach, growling playfully.

"And my aunt is over for the holidays, Alfred, I can't stay over—" Kiku managed to catch his feet, only to have Alfred work his way underneath his shirt, kissing his stomach. "She'll go back and tell my family—"

Alfred pulled away enough to look over his shoulder. "Dude, there's so much snow out there, it's like, half your height. Plus all that snow is bad for your… Head. And throat. Or something…" He resumed kissing, working on Kiku's belt and fly.

Kiku shook his head, allowing himself to be pushed backward until he hit the couch. "Hm, maybe you could lend me a coat?" He kissed the top of Alfred's head.

"But it's so cold outside, Kiku. And it's so warm in here. We could start a fire." Alfred tore off Kiku's jeans, nipping playfully at his feet. "Or I could get you another drink?"

"I ought to say no, no, no."

Alfred froze near Kiku's inner thigh. "What?"

Kiku frowned. "I… The song?"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, I… That song? The Christmas one? Where… She wants to…" Kiku sighed. "Never mind."

…

"Alfred F. Jones! What did I tell you about dipping into the liquor cabinet?!"

Kiku grinned to himself as he got dressed in the downstairs bathroom. Served Alfred right; Kiku had woken up to fifteen angry voicemails from his mother.