A/N: Mod Z wanted a drunk Alcor at some point during Bentley’s life.
Bentley
was powering through his assigned reading for Pre-Transcendence Demonic Literature when Dipper burst through his
bedroom door. After taking a moment to recover from nearly jumping out of his
chair, he set down the tablet and swiveled around in his chair.“What
is it?” He asked, putting one arm over the top of the chair and attempting to
look stern. “You know I love you, but I really need to get all seventy-nine
pages read for tomorrow.”Alcor—Dipper—oh
what the hell, his stupid demonic brother grinned and waggled his eyebrows. There
was a case of alcohol in one hand, and he swayed a little. “But it’s your twenty-first
birthday! You can drink now! We should drink! I brought the beer!”Sometimes
Bentley wondered what Dipper was on. “I…yeah, it’s my birthday, but it’s not my
twenty-first. And what does being twenty-one have to do with being able to
drink alcohol?”For
a full, very awkward minute, Dipper stared at Bentley without blinking. Knowing
that the moment he returned to his homework would be the moment Dipper spoke
up, Bentley simply waited.“…whaaaa?”
Dipper said. He took a lurching step into the room, slipped on nothing, and
caught himself mid-air. He floated there, pack of beer settled firmly on the
ground, staring at Bentley as though Bentley were speaking some sort of
language he miraculously didn’t understand.Bentley
sighed, but there was a grin tugging at his mouth. “I turn twenty today, you
goofball. And the drinking age is nineteen here. What does twenty-one have to
do with anything?”
Alchol
Published
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