fiveminutesfromdryheaving!Bobby scoffed at his whereabouts, squinting from both the lamp light and what felt like a flurry of pillows and blankets coming his way. In actuality, it was two pillows and a blanket being lightly tossed or put down, but it was still so much motion for the boy whose awareness was both heightened and slurred by his inebriation at the same time. Overwhelmed, he scratched at the back of his head and closed his eyes. His bros were so not being supportive in his mind, despite the fact they were giving him everything he needed to make a bed.
"I'ma not gonna puke," Bobby retorted. "An' I'm not high. I'ma drunk. And Scott has keeeeeeys." He frowned, staring down now at the the sheets and pillows surrounding him on the floor. He considered his new territory between the two beds, which really wasn't that new but seemed quite different with his current state of mind. "...I want to make a fort." Bobby continued to frown as he reported that, aware even now the bros wouldn't go for it. "Ice fort. Outside. Not today. Tuesday." He randomly decided.
Settling down unceremoniously on the ground with the pillows and sheet, Bobby winced as he placed his head down. "Hft. Bump on my head. My arch enemy is stupid metal shelfs made of fail." Bobby was referring to the bump left from his sudden impact in his father's garage. A wound which he had been too prideful to tell Josh about whilst sober. drunk!Bobby suddenly became, for no reason, self conscious of how much he was talking. The bros wouldn't care, would they? And that blew! He frowned awkwardly again, as if not having his expressions mastered yet, and rolled onto his side to face the walls of one of the beds rather than the dudes who would be sleeping in them.