"Did I? You fucking made it worse making me seem like some kinky deviant. Dirty brat."

Sigurd was smirking though as he playfully elbowed the Dane in his side before pulling his shirt over his head. The bralette on the head got the Swede pulling it off and chucking it onto the bed. At least Mikkel was feeling better and was being playful.

"I see you want to use my booze, brat. How about your own? Greedy bitch, aren't you?"

The bassist just pressed a kiss to Mikkel's cheek before delving under the bed to pull out two bottles of Ivar's gut rot. It was strong as Mule and did the same job.