"You'd better," Roman says, and it's the furthest thing from a threat in the universe. He's almost whining. He's too tired to be obstinate right now--it's too much effort, he's in too much pain, and he's never really been good with things like this. Picking himself off the floor.

It could be worse, he thinks. Kendall was there. For all of the shit he gives his older brother, there's genuine love there when push comes to shove. It doesn't mean he isn't miserable now, but it's a nice thought.

"I don't suppose it's Japanese whiskey?" He asks, because that's easier than hissing l like a feral cat as his nose is looked over.