Send a Ⴢ for my muses reaction to yours groping them under the table.
Aster cleared his throat - noticeably. ”Uhhh…Hiccup, ya do know where yer hand is, right?”
Aster tilted his head and shrugged. ”Yea, Ah did watch the bloke and yerself drink yerselves into oblivion and back.” Finally, Aster turned to face Hiccup, frowning at him. ”A’right drunkey brewster, Ah’m tellin’ ya this now and Ah’m not sayin’ it again. Ah’m not talkin’ anything relationshippy with ya while yer shitfaced. Ah’m talkin’ ta ya about relationships, yes, but Ah’m not hedging us at all till yer sober and actually able ta stutter and stumble over yer words. Ah’ve got things ta tell ya that need ta fall on ears that listen.”
Somewhere through the thickening fog of drunkeness, Hiccup could feel the conversation taking an unexpected turn. “Hedging us?” A frown tugged his lips and he let his fingers fall away from the glass, thoughts of another long gone. “I was joking about you suggesting something with the whole ‘man on man’ birds and bees talk…buuuuutt somehow I think you’re talking about something else here.” Something he was likely indeed too drunk for. Using what was left of his sense he hailed the bartender over, asking for water.