"Whiskey," Seamus answered. "Or Irish Cream - I've got both. We can try them together, even. It'd just make the Irish Cream stronger, I think." That might be nice, because though Seamus could drink whiskey neat, it might not be the best idea for the cheap stuff he'd grabbed. "Or something else if you don't like whiskey. We are in a pub, I can get whatever you want." And the fact that he was drinking through his profits wasn't one Seamus was overly concerned about right now.
He lead the way up to his flat, adjusting the wards to allow Merwyn in for the night. His living room wasn't very tidy. Since Dean's birthday, Seamus hadn't been much bothered with the personal responsibility of things like chores. There were plates from the pub piled by the sink, an empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table from a previous night. His bedroom door was open and though the room through it was dark, clothes strewn across the floor could just be made out and his bed was a rumpled pile of sheets.
"Welcome to chez Finnigan," he announced, placing the two bottles carefully on the coffee table with the empty one. The words reminded him painfully that he had to go to Paris tomorrow for Dean's birthday 'treat'. It was going to be hideously awkward. "Glasses," he murmured, looking around. "I guess we need glasses."