The post-party depression comes on almost as soon as the door shuts, and Eliot slumps back over the the couch, staring at the empty glasses and plates of food. He doesn't want to lose the good feelings he had, and he doesn't want Johnny to leave, but he distantly remembers a promise to have an actual talk, and Eliot is in no shape to do any such thing.

"So," he says, taking a deep breath as he looks at Johnny. "That was fucking weird." He tilts his head in the direction of the liquor, silently asking, more drinking?