"You don't think I could appreciate them?" Kirk pouted, because he was indeed a tad drunk, as was proper at any good party. At least he wasn't sloppy drunk, able to be coordinated, but it meant he was prone to giggling and touching, surprisingly affectionate when in his cups.

He twisted his hand in Mal's, threading their fingers, nosing at his shoulder with a happy hum.

"You ready to go home?" he asked Mal, turning now, coming up beside him and wriggling beneath his arm, his own around Mal's waist. "I did say you only had to stay for an hour."