Title: Fun Drunks

Disclaimer: Don't own any of it.

A/N: Very short ficlet; beta'ed by sockie1000.

Summary: Casey is not a very fun drunk.

-o-

Billy drinks hard. He takes gulping drinks, barely pausing to swallow in between. The alcohol burns down his throat, stinging his eyes, and when he's done, he has to take desperate, gasping breaths.

Still panting, he holds the bottle to Casey. "You want some?"

Casey gives him a look and shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure that's the worst idea yet."

"Your loss." Billy shrugs, tipping the bottle back and guzzling the rest. When he's done, he throws the bottle to the side, sagging back in exhausted. "Though really, you're not a very fun drunk."

Casey rolls his eyes, holding up the now-sterilized needle. "No, but I'm an adequate field medic," he replies. "Now shut up and let me sew."

Billy hisses as Casey touches the gash on his leg, trying not to whimper as the needle pierces the still-swollen flesh. "Still," he groans, tears leaking from his eyes. "I try not to drink alone."

"Liar," Casey says, pulling the first stitch taut.

Billy chuckles breathily. "Fair enough," he says. He grimaces as the needle goes in again. "Just promise me, if we get out of this-"

Casey pulls the thread. "When-"

"When we get out of this," Billy amends. "You'll let me buy you a - a proper drink."

"I'll expect it," Casey says. "That drink you just downed was from my private stash."

Billy yelps, letting his head drop back as he squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. He shakes his head. "Surely if you drank enough-"

"I try not to leave myself compromised," Casey says tersely. "A lesson you could learn."

Billy opens his eyes with a wince. "Aye," he says. "It's all just as well, though."

Casey holds the flesh together, dipping the needle in again. "How do you figure?"

Billy scrunches his nose, clenching his fingers into fist even as he tries to grin. "Because you're not very fun sober, either."