There would be much about this night that would plague Alex.  But the alarm that rang unheeded and not understood would be quite the puzzle the next day, if he could think past the pounding hang over.  Another riddle would be Anthony's sure hand.  The man was no bigger than Alex himself.  Surely, the arms were no more built.  Handling a man who was drunk and your own size results in much more flailing usually, on both the drunk one's and the sober one's part.  Then finding keys and such was quite the interesting search in which pocket is which.  Anthony not only found them right off, but pulled them out without any awkwardness at all.  Alex didn't make it a habit to be drunk, but he has been often enough and when he wasn't, he was the one supporting a friend home.  He knew a bit about the patterns.  The unusualness of these little tidbits would play on his mind when his mind finally cleared, until then, he was one happily drunk fool.<br/><br/>Alex was only vaguely aware of what was happening around him.  The alcohol fogging things to a dull unfocus.  He plopped his head back when propped up in the elevator.  It was the natural thing to do.  Lay your head against the wall.  Hell, he did it half the time when sober and just tired.  So of course he did it when drunk and unstable.  Alex laid bare his throat.  Anthony took his moment.  A kiss that garnered a slight content vibration from him.  Sabine had done that often while they were togther.  He always liked that.  Then the teeth.  He was too drunk for it to register as to what it was.  He opened his eyes, confused a moment.  Eyes that searched for Anthony's.  Alex's chin dropped in the effort, but not in such a way that would dislodge Anthony.<br/>