Another Day In Paradise | Danny Johnson x Reader

Becoming Best Friends With The Punch Bowl

(A/N): A good recommendation; listen to Girls Just Want to Have Fun when it's said to come on in the story. I don't know about you, but for me it had me smiling and feeling the moment just a little more :) Enjoy!

Sooner or later, sitting in the kitchen almost entirely sober while talking about whatever came to mind until there was nothing left grew boring. After 20 minutes, the silences began, and while they weren't awkward they were slowly numbing your mind into a grey haze of 'ugh'. Another 10 minutes and you and Brahms finally cracked and got a second drink, the buzzing in your body having dimmed into nothing all over again. Another 15 had you refilling your cup- from then on, whenever you reached the bottom of it you refilled it without even thinking. About an hour after your arrival you and Brahms had grown sick of the unsaturated silences and decided to suck it up and venture into the crowd like adults rather than stay hidden away like mice. With the time that had passed it seems the room had emptied just a little, guests leaving or moving to the backyard or rushing to grab a bedroom or bathroom to play around in, and there was just enough room for you and Brahms to stick together without being pulled apart by the tides of dancers. The temperature was high, the palm of your hand sweating where it held tightly to Brahms', and your breathing felt jittery and uneven. The music was still loud, deafening, but now that you had grown accustomed to it it was almost fun, in a foggy way; your head was beginning to shift and sway with your alcohol consumption, and you attempted to clear it with another sip of the rose-red liquid in the cup in your hands. Of course, the shock of booze piqued your alertness for a brief second, but then you were plunged into a drunken sea that was more intense than it had been before. Brahms, being dragged behind you as you searched for a clear-enough space to stand among the others, was blinking absently and swaying gently on his feet. He was more of a lightweight than you had turned out to be- he was already drunk off his ass.

"Did you finish your- your glass?" Brahms choked the words out, his brows screwing gently together in his efforts to hold tightly to his train of thought. You slowed to a halt, this area of the house a little less dense than the rest, and stared down into your cup. It was still half full, but the sickly-sweet scent that rose up to tickle at your nose was making you a little ill.

"No," You hum, and he extends a hand to ask to finish it for you. If you were sober you would have immediately declined- this much alcohol could not be good for someone who drinks as little as he does, especially when he was already so inebriated- however, it was his lucky day, because you were too tipsy to consider his well being. "Enjoy," You smile at him, uneven and definitely goofy-looking, but he returns it with a quirky smile of his own and then punches down the rest of the drink in one throat-burning shot. With a loud whoop and flushed cheeks, Brahms tossed the empty cup over his shoulder, shooting his arms forwards to catch both of your hands in his own. Leaning close, you could feel the heat coming off of him in waves and the first and last note of concern etched itself into your brain for the night. You were about to ask if he wanted to take off his cardigan when he started to chatter first.

"You know, Michael used to tell me to st-stay away from you," He staggered, and you guided him to the wall so he could slump heavily against it, "He said you would... that you would hurt us, or be scared of us, or think we're, like, weird." Unsure of where Brahms was taking this, you stayed silent, leaning against the wall yourself as the room swayed lightly. "He made me sc-scared, and-" Brahms hiccuped, shaking his head to clear it and speaking a little more evenly, "I'm sorry if it showed. I always try to be nice to people, but- sometimes I forget, and I don't really remember if I was ever mean to you, but I hope I wasn't."

"You've never done anything even close to mean, Brahmsy," You let go of one of his hands, patting his cheek a little harder than you'd meant to and knocking his head gently to the side. He let out a snicker and leaned his head away, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you towards him in a tight hug. You grinned as his arms wrapped around you, rocking you gently back and forth, and hugged him right back without any hesitation.