[ It isn't often that Reggie doesn't know what to say, but this is now one of those times-- even if he was the one who challenged Archie to say it in the first place. Part of him was hoping that maybe this would be about something else, one of many other problems that Archie surely has because he always seemed to have problems, but Archie doesn't really need to say any more than what he just did to make it perfectly clear what he means.

Reggie doesn't say anything for what's probably only seconds, but feels like longer-- five minutes, ten, an hour. He doesn't move or seem to react, but his heart is racing a bit faster in his chest, pounding impossibly loud to his ears; he watches Archie almost warily, wanting to be sure he can't also hear it.

He wonders what would happen if he took Archie by the wrist and pulled him into his room right now, but instead says: ]

Oh. [ --And laughs like someone releasing a breath. ] You know, that's right... god, I have never been that wasted before in my entire life.

[ Blood thumps more in his temples, slow now but still as loud to him as before. You, Archie said, he can't stop thinking about Reggie? But Archie's drunk and Reggie was stupid-- the poor idiot's probably just confused, right? Reggie leans his arm on the doorjamb, biting the corner of his lip as he tries to force a smirk, or at least a casual, reassuring(-ish) smile. This part is usually pretty easy, defusing an awkward situation by shrugging it off with a quip and a crude remark, but this time he does feel a moment of conflict. ]

But I mean, you get how it is-- you got pretty drunk yourself. [ He reminds himself that there's nothing really to this; nothing to ruin. ] Was it at least any good?