Drew has had much more of an impact on Deneil than the obvious and unfortunate confusion with his sexuality he brought along. Deneil would have been happy living out his friendships through texting and social media, only seeing people if he happened to bump into them in the street or if they were part of an important gathering like a birthday. He was never one to pick up the phone, arrange a day and spend it with a friend in person. Even a quick cup of coffee and a chat was never his thing. Sure, Deneil was never unfriendly to anyone but he wouldn't exactly go out of his way to maintain a friendship. It changed with Drew though. His extroverted ways somewhat brushed off on Deneil. It wasn't just Drew who he began to reach out to and spend time with. Deneil was meeting other people, had a new lease of confidence and was finally ready to drop his album after realising that people aren't actually that bad after all. Obviously things have changed now in regards to recent circumstances but he still has a lot to thank Drew for and losing him would be a hard blow to deal with. "I hope we can pull this off. You're a good friend, Drew. I don't care what you think about yourself. You are." Deneil smiles and listens to what Drew has to say next. He nods his head in agreement. Telling Billy absolutely everything wouldn't be the wisest of ideas. "You're right. I think that Billy deserves to know but not absolutely everything. If anyone finds out about what we did, it could hurt our friendship. You don't want us to be hanging out while everyone's looking at us with shifty eyes and our fiances not trusting us together. They might even forbid us to see each other. I don't want that. Right now, it's all about containment. Everyone who knows about us is in this room right now. I hope. Tisha....Tisha doesn't know, does she?" Deneil asks, remembering that he got a rather odd direct message from Tisha once which basically rubbed in the fact that Drew was spending time with her. It always struck him as odd.

"Well I've been banned from airplay in France so there is that. I'm too aggressive for their ears, apparently. Still went top ten there, though. Nowhere near Billy's achievements, of course. May be able to live until 55 though." Deneil chuckles and pours out the Scotch for both of them. It feels a little rich for Deneil to be giving Drew advice when he can't even sort out his own life. He cares about his friend though so he'll try his best to help in whatever way he can even if he can't take his own advice. "People may never forgive you. You have to forgive yourself though. You're the one who has to face yourself everyday, as obvious as that sounds. If you beat yourself up over things then this shitty life is going to be even shittier." Deneil gives a soft smile and hands the Scotch back over to Drew.

Hearing Drew agree to spend the night without reluctance relieves Deneil. He was prepared to get into a heated debate over it, even though he didn't want that to happen. Drew was not driving tonight whether he wanted to or not. "Yeah, spare room. It's not a five star hotel but it'll do." Deneil smiles then tilts his head in the direction of the room, as if motioning Drew to follow him. Deneil takes a sip of his Scotch before resting it on the coffee table and heading out of the living room. He bounces upstairs and turns to the first room on the right. Deneil switches the light on and illuminates Drew sleeping quarters for the night. "Sorry about the mess. Not used to having guests. Ever." Deneil says as he begins to tidy up the room. It's far from dirty and not exactly "messy" either. It's just used for a lot of spare items and a bunch of Deneil's gym equipment. He's not exactly a gym rat but he does have a nice physique and wishes to maintain it. After moving his weights and a few pairs of running shoes to the side, Deneil pops out to the linen closet and brings in fresh pillows, bed sheets and a duvet as the bed was laying bare. "These are nice and fresh. Make sure to leave a positive comment in the guestbook before you go," he jokes as he starts to make the bed. Putting the sheet over the mattress, Deneil climbs into the centre of the bed and struggles to reach over to the corners. It shows how short he actually is. Deneil usually has a tall, perfectly styled quiff and the shoes he wears are almost always fancy dress shoes with a little heel or big boots which gives an illusion of him being a lot taller. Now, stretching his short arms into the corners of the bed with his butt sticking up in the air and his flat, scruffy hair, Deneil looks rather tiny and adorable. "Won't be a minute, fam!" he calls, fighting with the sheet that keeps springing back up. One thing that isn't tiny though is his loud, cutting Cockney accent which immediately dismisses any thoughts of him being all cute and cuddly.


ooc: Like with my Erich RP, I was sitting around waiting for your reply when it was actually my turn. Sorry

"Tisha knows? Shit...wow...uh...I was kind of hoping that you were going to say that she didn't. OK...uh...well she hasn't told anyone else, right?" Deneil runs a hand through his hair and tries to remain as cool and calm as possible but it's hard. Deneil knows that Tisha is a bit of a loose cannon and that her relationship with Drew can be rocky at times. All it takes is for her to run her mouth or send out a tweet the next time she and Drew come to blows, exposing both of them. While the idea of everyone knowing about his sexual confusion is a scary enough thought, it's the idea of Mandy getting hurt that cuts the most. Deneil knows that cheating on her is wrong and inexcusable on so many levels but to find out from someone else or on social media would really be the hardest blow. When Deneil hears the stories of Drew and Tisha hiring people to follow each other around, Deneil raises an eyebrow and is taken aback. He really can't relate to it at all. If there's so much lack of trust and personal space, why even bother? Deneil doesn't question it though as the last thing he wants to do is quiz Drew and Tisha's love for one another.

In the bedroom, Deneil grits his teeth as he tries to stretch the sheet over the corner of the mattress, only for the opposite side to ping back. "Why won't you stay where the fuck you are, you fucking cu-!!" Deneil is cut off when Drew walks over and holds down a side, making it easier for him to fix the sheet. He smiles and laughs at his little angry outburst, shaking his head. Deneil tends to go from 0 to 100 real quick and back again just as fast. This hotheaded trait clearly runs in the family. He was hurling verbal abuse at a bed sheet and looked as if he was about to throw down at any given second - total glimpses of his older brother coming through right there. "Thanks, mate," Deneil says with a warm smile, suddenly all chill again. He moves down the bed to fix the last corner, unintentionally allowing Drew to have an even longer and better look at his butt. As he's stretching over, it causes his top to lift which shows off some flesh at the bottom of his back. Of course, it's nothing too arousing but when you have a relationship like these two, the very hint of bare skin can be enough. As he sits up and pulls the back of his shirt down to cover up without looking behind him, Deneil accidentally elbows Drew and realises that his friend was a lot closer than expected. "Oh...sorry..." Deneil says with a little chuckle, rubbing his hand over Drew's arm which he elbowed. For a moment, Deneil becomes a little distracted. Rubbing Drew's arm and being inches away from him while sitting on a bed together isn't the smartest thing to be doing right now but he doesn't care. Drew's presence seems to have such a calming effect on him as well as a feeling of safety and security. After rubbing Drew's arm for a few more seconds, Deneil snaps out of it and lets out a little nervous laugh. He throws two pillows onto the top end of the bed and stands up to lay out the duvet. "Not exactly a California king bed but it shouldn't be too bad for you tonight." Deneil giggles and turns to Drew. He looks at his friend and gives a dashing smile. There is more to the friendly look in his eyes though. Drew can't put his finger on what it is exactly, but he's very familiar with the look that Deneil gives. It basically says "at any second now, I'm going to pounce on you".

Aside from Riley and Billy, the remaining members of Weekend really don't know much about Scott Rose-Hilton at all. They know of his music and from what they can find online but other than that, it's pretty vague and if he's going to be managing their careers from now on, they really should get to know him a lot better. They only hired him for his past accolades and from Riley's judge of character. The longest they've spent together outside of the office was when they just so happened to bump into one another at the gym. Even then, Dustyn was MIA, Oscar was on vocal rest and Billy clearly wasn't in the mood for making niceties. Tonight, however, Billy is not in attendance and the other four don't have anything holding them back from having a good time. Fresh off the high of releasing their latest single and the positive feedback it's received, the boys are ready to celebrate and have a simply joyous night. The four boys arrive in the lift and pile out in order of smallest to tallest with Dustyn leading the processions followed by Scott, Oscar and then big Riley at the back. They're all suited up apart from Dustyn who's playing it more casual with jeans, a white shirt and black leather jacket. "This place looks better than my house!" calls out Scott, who just smoked a joint on the way to the building.

The boys all look around the place in awe. Although they all sit on millions themselves, they stay somewhat modest and reserved with their money. Dustyn is probably the one with the flashiest home as it too is a penthouse but the spacious apartment that looks out onto London certainly isn't as opulent as this hired one. His decor is less "one of the highest paid celebrities on the planet" and more "father of a messy four year old boy". Riley is the last to greet Scott with a handshake and turns it into a brief hug. He's obviously a lot more comfortable around Scott and the small embrace is a way of telling him many things at once. Not only is he really glad to see him but the friendly nature of his greeting and close contact shows that he's very much OK and surviving. This is the first time they have met in person since Riley was diagnosed with ACF. Dustyn glows when Scott congratulates them on the single as he had a huge hand in writing it. Dustyn has writing credits on around 95% of Weekend's material, released and unreleased. He is the most skilled and trained songwriter, having been armed with an acoustic guitar and open mind for years. "Thank you. I trust that you've downloaded a copy?" Dustyn asks with a little chuckle as he plops down on the couch next to Oscar. Scott is clearly on another planet, wondering around the spacious apartment and picking up everything to inspect it. TV remotes, candle holders, coasters and just about anything he can get his hands on. "You have any biscuits here, mate?" asks Scott, needing to appease his severe case of the munchies. Riley turns to his boss and mimics smoking a joint, telling him that his namesake is high as a kite.

The Weekend members are only familiar with the lavish lifestyle when it's not themselves who are paying for it. Friends who like to flaunt and big industry events are how they get their fill. They're simply too busy to invest in all this extravagance and when they do finally have time to chill out, they like regular home comforts. They were plucked from parts of the UK and Ireland rather than born into a showbiz world in which all this stuff is seen as the norm and a necessity. "We weren't really planning on releasing a single or an album until like 24 hours before we posted the link," Oscar pipes up. "We just thought that rather than wait around much longer, why not just give the fans what they want? We already have the material ready and waiting to go. Apologies for the lack of warning." Oscar says with a little chuckle before picking up a glass of wine. It's amazing to see how open and sociable he is when Billy is not around him. Oscar barely says two words when the infamous member is present as he tends to jump down his throat after every syllable.

"Scott..." Dustyn says sheepishly as he twiddles his thumbs and looks up at his boss from the couch. He looks like he doesn't know whether to laugh and curl up into a ball and die off quietly as he thinks about what he's going to ask. Dustyn knows that R.H likes to have a good time. A real rock star definition of good time. However, now that they have a manager/client relationship, he's not too sure where he stands on the old recreational drugs policy. He seems fine with Scott being high but Dustyn's known for liking the heavier stuff. "Is it uh....this kind of party?" he asks with a little giggle, briefly flashing a bag filled with white powder in his top jacket pocket.

Riley grabs a beer and looks over to the kitchen area with the chef and Scott Wellington. He chuckles against the tip of the bottle and shakes his head. "The hell is he doing?" he says quietly, observing the animated movements of his band mate.

"Mate...mate, do you have like uh....like a kebab or like a...like a really, really, really big fucking burger?" Scott enquires the chef as he moves around, eyeing up all the utensils in the area. The smell of food being prepared is driving his empty, craving stomach wild.

Dustyn walks around with his overnight bag slung over his back, travelling around The Duke in awe like an Irish Dora The Explorer. His backpack probably talks to him too after the amount he's had to drink already. He's at the fun stage of drunk where signs of intoxication are clearly showing but he's far from being a slurring, clumsy mess. He's been hitting the Guinness a bit too hard today. Dustyn has been on the ship countless times but every visit results in him ingesting something that fucks with his mind and makes him blank out, forgetting everything the next day. Each time he boards the ship it's like experiencing it with new eyes. People must think he's a total kiss-ass as he's complemented the same decor about 50 times over.

The C deck lounge is exactly Dustyn's style. He loves the cosy, inviting and warm atmosphere of it all. As much as the little blonde loves the noise and is regularly seen out in clubs with his mates, he'd much rather chill in an environment like this. Something about the outdated style gives it so much more character and warmth. He'd much rather hang out here than somewhere that looks very cold and clinical, despite some of the colour schemes being a total crime against Dustyn's little blue eyes. The huge area filled with empty seats provides top notch acoustics for Dustyn to show off his talents. He twirls around, singing along with Mr Frank Sinatra; "...but dont change a hair for me, not if you care for me, stay little valentine stay...." Now it's a crime to say that anyone sounds just like Sinatra but Dustyn really isn't far off of it. People overlook him because he sings a few verses in a pop band and his giggly, cutesy persona doesn't really scream "serious singer" but Dustyn truly has a golden voice. It's deep, husky and certainly slots in nicely among other famous, acclaimed throwback crooners. Nobody would think of it upon seeing him and he always shocks when he lets that voice out. At the drop of a hat, it sounds like a totally different person again as he talks to Erich in his chirpy Tipperary accent. "Hey...t-there you are!! I've b-been looking all over the boat for you. I tu-urned a corner and the next...the next thing you weren't there but here you are!" The drunken Irishman smiles warmly and plops himself down next to Erich. He gives his a drunken smooch on the cheek, dangerously close to the mouth. If it was anyone else, alarm bells may be ringing but it's just Dustyn. He's just really affectionate, loves Erich to bits and not to mention the fact that he's wasted.

Dustyn is one of those rare breeds of popstars nowadays who has the full package. Not only does his blond hair and baby face give him the looks, he also has the voice. A voice that has the ability to either lift or sadden someone's mood, depending on how he uses it. It's that powerful and emotive. He can also dance and write songs too. Weekend's discography is 95% his handiwork. So it's safe to say he won't be out of a job when Weekend's ship sinks. He continues to hum parts of the song as he's sat next to Erich.

Dustyn watches as Erich inhales from the pipe. This was never really Dustyn's drug of choice, although there was a point in his life where morphine was included as part of his diet in the form of speedballs. The deadly combination of cocaine, heroin and morphine is what almost took Dustyn's life a few years ago and is the reason he's no longer a heavy user. Still, being totally clean is boring to him so he's still partial to the odd hit of something that takes the edge off. He inspects the pipe, raising an eyebrow inquisitively "W-what's that do?" When Erich talks about other portals he giggles but then widens his eyes at the mention of Erica and her nationality. "Wait...I thought you were all Japanese and y-you just didn't look it. Like th-that Lincoln singer boy who is Asian but doesn't look like he is. Do...do you think I may be African??" Dustyn asks, giggling and pulling his backpack from behind him and onto his knees as he cosies up next to Erich. It's part of Dustyn being on an end of the autism spectrum but he's very particular about who he's physically close to. There are some people he wants to be all over to show his affection and then there are others he doesn't want to shake hands with, causing him to freak out if approached.

Laying his head on Erich's shoulder, something comes to mind which makes him pop back up. Dustyn recently took part in a naked photoshoot for a gay oriented magazine. The whole article is about being a young gay man in the spotlight, sexual health and all the gossip from his past relationships with men but really, we all know most people will just buy it for the pictures and what they want to do when they're alone with said pictures. "Can I get your opinion on my bare arse?" He says as he rummages through his bag, pulling out all sorts he brought for his overnight stay. Toiletries, snacks, a...toy....finally, the folded up picture. "It's the first photoshoot I ha-have ever did like this...you know like..." Dustyn looks around before whispering the word, "nakey...". He giggles and unfolds the picture. They have been dying for Dustyn to take part in a shoot like this for years but as he was really young, baby-faced and seen as the baby of the group, it would have been really wrong to photograph him like that. Now that he's 20 and a tad more mature, it's totally OK to strip him and pose him in questionable positions... "Be honest, wh-what do you think? This is just one of the photos. I need to approve them before n-next week. I don't know if it's good or not....I mean...would you buy this...if you liked that sort of thing..." Dustyn giggles and hands the picture over, showing him posing nude in a sauna, back to the camera with a full moon out.

Dustyn looks at the pipe and smiles, reaching his hand out like a curious toddle. "I wanna taste some," he says, as if it were some sort of drink or a snack. Dustyn is usually up for trying anything once and as he's drunk right now, everything seems like a good idea to him. It was a drunken decision that made him realise his love for the odd food combination of a Big Mac with peanut butter. Anyone who turns their nose up at it is firmly scored out of his Christmas card list. He's that passionate about it. Dustyn has the nerve to look disgusted when Erich mentions apple pie, given some of the things he puts in his mouth. "I...I'm as Irish as...four leaf clovers and Guinness," he slurs before producing a can of the dark beverage from his backpack. God knows how long it's been in there given all the travelling he's done today but he'd prefer it to be slightly warmer than ice cold from a fridge. It seems to lose its edge the colder it is. He takes a sip from the black can and then offers it out to Erich. "Well...my grandad on my mum's side is actually Scottish...and there is some Polish roots i-in there too...but I'm still Irish...right? Or does that make me mixed race?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and swaying a little as he tries to focus on Erich. When Erich cracks the joke, it goes right over Dustyn's head. He thinks "where it counts" is referring to something like his heart or his soul. "Awww that's so sweet!" he gushes, burying his head into Erich's shoulder, his blond fluffy hair probably tickling his adoptive father's neck.

"Uh...I don't know how to brand it. Maybe...as tasteful in some poses as Ma-appleth...whatever his name is...but not as explicit. I dunno..." Dustyn's face turns all shades of pink and red when Erich inspects the photograph. It's not as if Erich hasn't seen him naked before. Erich's even joked about seeing his willy more times than his own, and this is all in the flesh. That was all casual and candid though. This is different. This is the first time Dustyn's ever really shown off his body in such a manner. Billy's infamous for his naughty pics, Oscar has a sex tape out there and even the golden child Riley Hamilton has done sex scenes on TV and is partial to the odd suggestive post-workout shirtless pic. Dustyn's always been seen as the baby and despite public rumours of what he's packing, has always remained clothed and conservative to the world. This is his moment which many young stars go through that says 'Look at me, I'm all grown up and a sexual being. You can look and think naughty things about me now.' It's important he gets it right and that others approve or at least know what he's aiming for. The response from his friends was mixed when he told them he was doing the shoot. Some believed stripping off in front of a camera was attention seeking and a bit degrading while others encouraged him and loved his confidence and new grown-up mindset. No more posing with puppies and looking like everyone's favourite grandson. "There are..f-frontal ones but they won't be included in the magazine. Just took some in case I changed my mind about it later on and for me to take home and say that I r-really posed nude in a ph-photoshoot. But..eh..nah...nobody is seeing that. People already think I'm slutty as it is." Dustyn says, giving a defeated half smile. In the industry and his local area, Dustyn's been given quite a few nasty nicknames as he was known to get around...a lot. "Here..." he says, offering out another printed sheet. It's the same size as the first one, only this one contains 12 smaller pictures, three on each row and all of them being alternatives and outtakes from the same session. It's not a pornographic magazine so everything is shot tastefully and there are no images of Dustyn doing anything naughty to himself. They're a tad hard to make out as they are all resized to fit the A4 sheet but they are more or less the same thing: all in the sauna with some bare butt and when he's facing the camera he either has a small towel or his hands covering the goods. There is one, however, which has Dustyn's body facing forward while placing his hands behind his head and looking down, letting all the goods just hang loose. Erich's son is clearly packing and hopefully doing the family proud.

Dustyn takes hold of the pipe in a rather maladroit way, not appreciating the charm of the piece like Erich. Plus he's also had goodness knows how many drinks today so his hand to eye coordination isn't exactly on point. Dustyn then shakes his head at Erich's theory of robots having their way with them in a very matter of fact way, like he isn't even joking about it. "Y-yeah but it wouldn't be th-that bad 'cause we'd be out of it and they're robots so they can't get us pregnant," he quips, as if sex with another human male would impregnate them. "Also, they can't kill me, 'c-cause I'm gay and that's the only way you s-survive a horror movie this decade...or s-so I've been told." Dustyn is about to inhale from the pipe but is thrown off when Erich hands the oil lamp over. What is that ancient looking contraption? It looks like some sort of religious symbolism. He shrugs and takes the lamp, again in a very ham-fisted manner and mimics what Erich was doing with it earlier on. Dustyn puffs on the pipe with a look of sheer concentration on his face, figuring out what this drug and complex way of consuming it is all about. A lot of people wince and are all on edge when they witness Dustyn abuse drugs. He's so small and delicate looking, it's easy to imagine his system not being able to cope with something so brutal. Truth is, he's pretty resilient in many ways. Sure, he bruises like a peach but when it comes to consuming and sometimes having a binge on recreational drugs, it barely touches the sides. Mama Murphy and her chems have nothing on him. "Nah...it does nothing..." Dustyn says with a disappointed expression as he hands the pipe and light back over to Erich. Just as he passes it over, his eyes widen and he gives Erich a genuinely warm and infectious smile. The initial euphoria is starting to take over. He giggles in his usual compelling way and sinks into his chair.

"Well childhoods will be ruined when the read about what turns me on in the bedroom! But, no...no willy pics will be printed in the mag!" Dustyn blushes a hot, feverish red, suddenly going all shy about the conversation and he can't think why. He's had much more intimate conversations with Erich in the past and he's been wearing much less while having these discussions, unlike now where he's fully clothed from top to bottom. He even still has his shoes on. It's probably because this is very much "real". It's not off-the-cuff friendly banter where everything is taken with a pinch of salt and doesn't really matter beyond the four walls it happens in. These compliments and thoughts aren't just being said to please Dustyn and shut him up, they actually mean something. This is a big step in his career. It feels odd talking openly about his body as "Weekend Dustyn" and not just as "Dusty". There's always been a clear divide between his wild self at home and the cutesy, guitar strumming person he is when at work. Now it's all merging and he wants to take more control over how he's perceived. "I wanted to g-get away from the fucking baby image. I don't want people c-calling me "adorable" when I'm like...30...ew!" Dustyn shivers at the thought and then giggles, totally not getting Erich's reference. "Isn't Dirk Diggler a Pokemon?" He obviously means Diglett and it's shit like that that really irks Scott, a massive fan of the franchise. Get the names right or leave!

When Erich asks what Dallas thinks, Dustyn bites on his bottom lip and turns away. "I...I uh....haven't told him yet," he confesses quietly, knowing that it sounds bad saying it out loud. Doing a nude photoshoot without telling your partner is one thing but to do it and then go on to tell loads of your friends first is another. "It...it's just that...Dallas is like one of those people wh-where he believes there's a time and a place for that stuff. Even at home with me, he has to be really in the mood for us to do stuff and if he's not f-feeling it then there's no chance of even a cheeky finger being slipped in while kissing. I thought that if I told him beforehand, he wouldn't like it...and then i-it'd dampen my mood about it and I'd cancel....but this was something I just had to do. I still have to tell him b-but then he'll realise that I went and did the whole thing...stripped off in front of everyone without even con-consulting my boyfriend." Dustyn sighs and takes his can of Guinness back, draining the remainder of it. "I've kinda dug a hole haven't I? Like Dirk Diggler."

Dustyn laughs and sits up, trying to fight off the sleepiness that is now beginning to worm its way in after smoking a little more than he should have on his first go. "Yeah, t-totally. The willy pic was just for you!! I c-can give you a bigger version of it and you...y-you can hang it up somewhere on The Duke a-and envy my foreskin." Dustyn pokes his tongue and then shrugs when Erich asks him if he's a customer of Karoliena and Cassie. "Maybe I am....maybe I ain't...." he says in a teasing way, reaching into his bag again to pull out another can of his favourite alcoholic beverage. He seems to have a never ending supply in there. The bag is only small too, so with all the junk he's been pulling out of it tonight, it's safe to say that it's like the TARDIS in that bag. "I am partial to the odd toy..." he muses, picking up the purple vibrator he brought along with him. "I have been tied u-up once or twice too but I don't like all that spanky stuff. It makes me bruise and that's not sexy at all." Dustyn opens up his new Guinness and takes a sip before turning to Erich and asking very nonchalantly; "Is fisting S&M? Asking for a...friend."

"I'm...the cutest one? Well thanks! Don't say anything to Billy though." While Dustyn's image has never been entirely squeaky clean, he gets off lightly. He's a media sweetheart. They love it when he's on top but they also love it when he fails. When he was going through the very public battle with cocaine at just 16 years old and then all the drama with Blake and Adam, he was front page news everyday. However, it was always very sugarcoated and the majority of people were rooting for him, wanting Dustyn to pull through. He was the victim of it all rather than the villain. If it were Billy or Scott, the two members of the band who get bashed by the media, they'd be portrayed as an annoyance rather than a tragedy. The point being, Dustyn never got to decide how he was portrayed, for better or for worse. The press cherry picked at everything and did whatever they could to get an interesting story on Dustyn and make some money from it. Now, if he beats them to the punch and decides what he wants to put out there himself, he'll feel more in control and like he's actually being genuine in front of the masses. "H-hanging with you has drawn some nasty comments...but they're mainly aimed at you, I'm afraid. That's the thing I don't like. It's patronising...like Dusty doesn't know what he's doing, point the finger at someone else. I want to take ownership of my life and decisions."

"Yeah, he's not the wildest but I love him regardless. Besides, when he actually does turn it on he can rattle a headboard like a sailor on leave! He might not have the same drive as others I've been with...b-but he's certainly the best." Dustyn takes a sip of his Guinness then offers it out to Erich again as sharing is caring. He really shouldn't be talking about his sex life with Dallas out of respect as he knows his boyfriend is one for airing out anything past the bedroom door but this is Erich he's with. He knows that he has his ear. Dustyn kicks off his shoes, showing off his green and white socks covered with shamrocks just in case anyone hasn't picked up on where he's from. "It makes it worse 'cause I've had a mixed reaction from people already. Some understand and love it...oth-others don't care for it and think it's kinda...trashy. I don't know which category Dallas will fall into...and he's the last person I want to piss off, especially now that I've been thinking about...stuff." Dustyn can't help but force a little smile through the worried frown as he thinks about where he now wants to take his relationship with his long-term boyfriend. He clears his throat and snaps out of his white picket fence daze. "Hey...y-you have any duvets? Can we both sleep in here?!"