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Niall's head falls happily onto Louis' shoulder, and they look at the makeshift rings, hands held up next to each other and wavering on drunk unsteady arms.
"Probably it was, like, a joke, right?" Louis says. "What hotel are we even in?"
"The Wynn," Niall mumbles. Trust him to remember the travel plans but not whether they fucked or tied the knot last night.