"Ah—" Iliya is surprised when Cameron grabs him—he never has before, not like this—but there's only the briefest moment of resistance before he slides an arm up Cameron's arm, to touch his shoulder. "Not so much. There is a lot of you to soak up all that alcohol."

He's self-conscious about how public this is, but the sun has long since set, and if he focuses carefully, he can convince himself that no one's looking at him except Cameron. No one else cares. Iliya exhales. "Which crown is that?"