He'll cling to him all night, James thinks numbly. He can't imagine not clinging to him, right then - fingers pressed numbly into the other boy's arm, fit snugly against him. How am I supposed to sleep like this?

And then, just like that, he's out too, arms falling limp eventually, rolling off of him at some point. James will sleep a deep, heavy sleep, both from being out so late and from the liquor both, and it will be almost noon before he wakes.