This story is based off of the song "Seven Drunken Nights".

~~~~~~

 On Monday evening, you hear the sound of a horse riding up to your house. Smiling, you open the door to Paul, who comes in with a smile. 

 "You're here earlier than I thought you would be," you remark. 

 "Well, I tried to," he says. "Means more time with you." 

 You smile and close the door. "Well, I'm certainly glad you're here. I like to have more time with you." 

 You reach up and give him a kiss, but then you pause when you hear someone outside. 

 "Go to my room," you whisper to Paul. "Go on." 

 He is safely out of sight when Ryan stumbles in, completely drunk. 

 "There's a horse outside!" he cries, pointing at the door. 

 "That's your horse, Ryan," you say calmly. 

 "No, not mine! There's another one out there!" 

 "Oh, Ryan, you're drunk again," you snap. "That's a sow my mother sent me. Now, go sit down by the fire and calm yourself." 

 As he does so while mumbling something about a saddle, you go to your room where Paul is waiting for you. 

 "Who is that?" he asks. 

 "Oh, he's a friend of mine," you answer. "Don't worry about him. He'll be asleep soon enough." 

~~~~~~ 

 When Damian shows up on Tuesday night, you give him a kiss in greeting and tell him to hang up his coat. 

 "Have you been drinking?" you ask him. 

 "Only a little," he answers sheepishly. "Pub can get rowdy, so I didn't stay long." 

 "Well, good. I wouldn't want you getting into any fights." 

 You then hear the doorknob rattle, and whisper to Damian, "Get in the closet for a minute." 

 You push him in and close the door just as Paul enters, completely drunk. 

 "Oh, for goodness sake, Paul," you say when you see him. "You look awful." 

 He stands looking at Damian's hanging coat in a dazed sort of way. 

 "Whose coat is that?" he asks, his words slurred. 

 "Oh, that a blanket my mother sent me," you answer. "It isn't a coat. Now, why don't you sit down and calm yourself?" 

 Paul sits down at the table, places his head down, and quickly falls asleep. Damian slowly opens the closet door and asks, "Is he asleep for good? What's he doing here, anyway?" 

 "Oh, he's disoriented. Come on, don't worry about him." 

~~~~~~

 On Wednesday night, George bursts through the front door and calls, "I'm home, my dear!" 

 "And so you are." You go over to him and hug him. "I smell liquor. Have you been drinking?" 

 "Ah, I only had a glass. I'm fine."

 You don't get much of a chance to talk before Keith bursts in. He stumbles, and is obviously completely drunk. 

 "Aha!" he cries, pointing at the table. "Whose pipe is that?" He holds up his own. "It isn't mine." 

 "For God's sake, Keith, that's a tin whistle my mother sent me," you snap. "You don't even know what you're talking about." 

 Keith stammers for a minute, but then suddenly passes out, collapsing on the floor. You had pushed George into the hallway but now he came over and asked, "What the hell happened to him?" 

 You sigh. "I have no clue. I'll take care of him in the morning." 

~~~~~~ 

 On Thursday night, Ryan shows up sober and acting like more of his old self. 

 "I'm sorry, Y/N," he says. "I'll be better with everything from now on, I promise." 

 His words manage to warm your heart a little, and you give him a warm kiss. "Come on, then. Take off those muddy boots and settle down." 

 Not long after that, you hear the front door open and Damian call, "Y/N?" 

 When you go into the front hallway, Damian is staring at Ryan's muddy boots. 

 "Those aren't mine," he says. 

 "Damian, how drunk are you?" you scold. "You reek of it. And those are some flower pots my mother sent me. Here." You lead him to a chair by the fireplace. "Go to sleep and let the liquor wear off." 

 He does so, and you hear Ryan ask, "Well, he's not all that bright, is he? Why do you even let him in?" 

~~~~~~ 

 On Friday night, Keith shows up mostly sober and is in a cheery mood. 

 "Come on, love," he says, picking you up and twirling you around. "Let's have a grand old night together, huh?" 

 "All right, then." You hear the doorknob turning, and you whisper to Keith, "Go on to my room. I'll be there in a minute." 

 George stumbles into the house, and while he doesn't seem very drunk, he definitely has been drinking. 

 "I'm all right, dear," he says. "Let's get some sleep, eh?" 

 He pushes past you to go to your bedroom, and as you expected, he quickly comes back saying, "What's he doing there?" 

 "What am I doing here?" Keith yells, storming in. "What are you doing here, old man?" 

 From outside, you hear Damian's voice: "I'm telling you, there was a pair of boots there that weren't mine!" 

 Damian comes in with Ryan and Paul in tow, and your men are really all face-to-face with each other now. 

 "What's going on here?" Paul asks. 

 "I found him in my bed!" George cries, gesturing to Keith. 

 "Oh, that's funny," Keith replies. "I was here first." 

 "Hey, I know somebody was here in my place," Damian says. 

 "Oh, for God's sake, Damian," Ryan snaps. "Those were my boots, all right? Now, would you stop going on about it?" 

 As you watch them all begin to argue with each other, you begin to think that maybe none of them are really worth the trouble after all. You may as well just go back to your mother's house, though you're not sure how amusing she'll find the story of your drunken suitors.