Frederick found himself staring at Bryan's mouth when he spoke. After the whole surge of testosterone in the bar, he was finding it hard to focus on anything else, and had to seriously fight the urge to grab the boy's face and kiss him hard right then and there.
Dude... on the street? He's straight. Or, well, he says so. He thinks he is. Whatever... I'm so screwed. No, no. I'm just drunk. We're both drunk. It's okay. It's all good. Drunk.
Suddenly snapping out of it, Fred snorted and laughed at Bryan's predicament. He surely was a cute drunk, and there were precious few of those. Most people liked to think they were cute when drunk, but for the most part they were very much not. But Bryan was.
"God, you're one annoying drunk," he teased, chuckling. "You can't drive, jackass. Are you kidding? You'd probably catch on fire if I lit a match next to your mouth right now." Yes, humor was always a safe bet, but the sentiment was pertinent. Neither of them was really in any shape to drive. Lucky for them, Frederick knew a small, picturesque boutique hotel only a few blocks away.
"Come on," he said, pulling his arm away from Bryan's shoulders, because it was starting to feel a little too intimate. Instead, he took him by the elbow and led him on their merry way. "This way."