I Swear to Drunk I'm Not God

Artorias had thought he was doing a decent job at heading up the stairs on his own until he paused to look back and saw he'd made it all of three stairs in his drunken delirium. He scowled, frustrated by his lack of progress, then moved up to the next step. Only, whoops! Turns out it wasn't a real stair at all! Artorias' paw sank straight through the phantom step his mind had created, and the next thing the young brute knew, his chin was meeting the carpeted stairs, his body collapsing with a dull thud and nearly sliding back down to the floor. It didn't hurt anything more than his pride, and thank the gods no one was around to see his slip. Oh, wait, never mind, suddenly there were paws next to him. Fuck. Okay, so one wolf had seen his fall. The Aegis lifted his head with a little wobble, peering up with hazy amber eyes into familiar pools of verdant emerald. A grin slowly spread its way across his face. "Boooowen!" Artorias cooed with delight, overjoyed to see his sister he loved so much suddenly at his side. "When did... When did you get here?" Artorias glanced around the empty foyer, trying to figure out where she'd come from. Oh, right, the stairs. She'd probably been upstairs.

Bowen's words fell on mostly deaf ears, the big drunk black and blue brute acknowledging she was speaking to him, but not fully focusing on conversation right now. A nudge to his side caught Artorias' attention. He saw his littler sister using her body to urge him upright, and with her help he was back on his paws in no time. Getting up the stairs proved to be significantly easier with her there to guide him. He didn't have to guess which of the spinning stairs he was looking at were the real ones when she could point them out for him. He tried not to lean too much on her, not wanting to take Bowen down with his weight if he stumbled again. They made it to the second floor, then slowly down the candlelit hallways, all the while Artorias mumbling or singing to her and to himself as they went, only quieting for a short period whenever she would gently hush him.

Artorias stumbled into the dark of his bedroom, the fire dying down in the hearth and casting the bedroom in a faint orange glow and heavy shadows. It was fortunate that Artorias was not new to drink, or else he probably would have been ill by now. As it was, the dire brute was just very, very intoxicated, not quite to the point of vomiting or blacking out, but definitely past tipsy. A silly grin painted the young brute's face while clumsy paws wobbled about the floor, eventually making their way over to his large canopy bed. Another insistent nudge came to his rump, drawing a suggestive giggle from the drunk wolf, but he obeyed Bowen's command all the same, managing to hoist himself up onto the mattress strewn with soft alpaca blankets and warm furs. Artorias collapsed with a heavy sigh into his pillows, the world seeming to swim less now that he was lying down and still. He rolled to his side, facing Bowen while she brushed the fur from his eyes, gazing into those pools of green like she was the only thing that existed in the world to him. Even when the world was spinning, Bowen remained clear to him, his sole focus.

Bowen asked what she was going to do with him and a roguish grin crept slowly over Artorias' muzzle. Oh, he could think of a few things to suggest, and he was certain Bowen would be able to read his expression like an open book, but he didn't hide anything from her. They'd been exchanging looks all night from across the great hall, but even if it was only to snuggle, Artorias just wanted Bowen closer to him. "I dunno... wanna cuddle?" he mumbled with feigned innocence, repeating her own trick of waiting until her paw came back to brush his fur before tilting his muzzle and lashing his tongue out to briefly catch her delicate paw pads with his tongue. With his inhibitions all but gone, Artorias' more primal instincts had come to the forefront, and his desire and attraction for Bowen was all his alcohol-addled brain could focus on. Lifting a large blue paw, he lazily patted the plush mattress beside him, inviting Bowen up to join him in the comfort and warmth. "Please?" There was a little bit of longing in Artorias' plea, hoping Bowen wouldn't just deposit him in bed and go off on her own. He wanted her to stay—at least for a little while longer, so he wouldn't feel so alone.

"Artorias" | "Carpathian"