“We should have sober sex,” Patrick says, rolling his neck until it pops loudly. He really should be thinking about getting up off of the floor. “Why would we do that?” Jonny asks, twisting to look down at Patrick like he just suggested that they throw puppies into traffic.

Some people get mean when they drink. Some people get quiet, or loud, or weepy. Sid gets… well.

Either way, there was someone or something to blame for the fact that Jack ended up sending Connor Fucking McDavid a dick pic. Perhaps it was the universe as a whole.

“I didn’t even have my dick out, what’re you freaking about,” Tom says, which is probably not the best way to ease his roommate into his sexual proclivities.

“Tater thinks I’m pretty,” Eric blurts out, and Jack chokes as he’s taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe wrong word,” Alexei tries, reaching out to squeeze Eric’s shoulder, “You handsome, but face is soft. Is nice face. Uh, you okay, Zimmboni?” “Yeah,” Jack coughs. His eyes are watering. “You’re right. Bitty is pretty.” “Is rhyme!” Alexei yells, excitedly, and offers his champagne bottle to Jack. “Drink for rhyme.”