Work Text:
Boris liked to believe he never pushed his own limits. That he wasn’t reckless, and that he was perfectly fine and safe in everything he did. He didn’t want to grow up to be like his parents—like his mom, and even worse—his dad. But despite that, sometimes, Boris didn’t really know when enough was enough.
Boris was settled next to Theo on his dirty mattress while some violent action movie played in the background. He wasn’t paying attention, really. His mind felt too light and staticky, and his limbs too heavy to really pay attention to anything. Him and Theo drifted in and out of conversation. About school, Theo’s dog, movies, Theo’s mom, Boris’ dad—really anything. Theo was much less drunk than he was, evident by the fact that he was actually able to still think straight.
“Potter. You ever think about…life?” Boris mumbled suddenly, his words incredibly slurred
“What?” Theo somehow understood what he had said
“Life! Ya’know…like, all the breathing…living bullshit,” He waved his hand, which was currently gripping the neck of a bottle of beer, to emphasize the word ‘life.’
He took another sip of beer, acting as if half asleep.
Theo stared at him quizzically, “Boris, how much have you had to drink?”
Boris thought for a moment, which wasn’t really thinking, it was trying to think but ultimately failing due to how drunk he was.
“Dunno. three bottles, five bottles, ten bottles, maybe more. Who knows? And who cares. Is life, Potter!” Boris tilted his head up to look at Theo, eyes lidded and a wonky smile on his face.
Theo rolled his eyes, taking another sip himself.
“Whatever you say, Boris. I just don’t want to wake up to you in a shitty mood because you drank too much and got a bad hangover”
“Would never dream of it”
Once again, the conversation fizzled out. Boris took great interest in swinging around his bottle so gently you could barely tell, just so he could hear the satisfying swish of liquid inside. He took another chug, sweet beer falling down his dry throat. As the last drops hit his tongue, he tossed the bottle aside rather grumpily, and fumbled around for another.
Noticing the commotion, Theo gently placed his hand over Boris', stopping his grasping around for a new bottle.
“You don’t need another, Boris,” Theo dragged his hand away from the box
“Does not matter, Potter,” He whined, “Just…one more. Promise.”
Theo shook his head, “Trust me. You’ve already had too much.”
Boris intertwined his fingers with Theo’s, rubbing his thumb against the side of Theo’s hand. He leaned his body closer, looking up at him, eyes sparkling and his lips pouting. He could tell Theo was affected by the way his cheeks grew red, and he tried to scoot back to no avail—he was already pressed up against the wall as much as he could.
“Please, Potter,” Boris whispered, “One more. Then I am done. Promise.”
Theo was blushing furiously. He opened his mouth to say something, but was unable to get the words out, so he closed it again.
Boris’ eyes suddenly grew glossy and distant. His grip on Theo’s hand loosened, and his face slowly fell.
Theo furrowed his brows in concern, “Boris?”
Boris shook his head, pulling away from Theo and sitting up against the wall.
“It is fine, Potter. Just dizzy,” he tried to laugh it off, but his stomach felt like it was doing somersaults, and his mouth felt dry and scratchy.
And dizzy he was. The room felt like it was spinning around him. He couldn’t fix his vision on one single thing, no matter how hard he tried. Theo must have noticed how off he was feeling, because he heaved himself up out of the bed, and held out his hands for Boris to reach.
“Stand up,” Theo said
Boris whined about how he was fine, and he just needed a minute to lay down, but ultimately grabbed Theo’s hands.
Theo’s efforts combined with his own, he was able to pull himself out of the bed. He stumbled forward, almost falling on Theo. He took a second to realize how close the two were—once again hand in hand, as well as chest to chest. He sometimes forgot how much taller he was than Theo.
Clumsily, he tried to take a step back, but ended up tripping, almost falling back on the bed. The room was still spinning, and his ears were ringing. Theo tightened his grip on Boris, preventing him from actually falling.
The room started feeling very warm. Almost unbearably warm.
“Do you…feel that too…Potter?” Boris mumbled, still looking around frantically
“Feel what?”
“It- It’s so warm!” He laughed
Theo sighed, and placed the back of his wrist to Boris’ head. A shiver went down Boris’ spine, and breathing felt much harder than it had been before.
“Come on, let’s go,” Theo wrapped his arm around Boris’ waist—an action that caused blood to rush to both of their faces—and started walking him to the bedroom door.
“What? What are you doing? Let me go!” Boris protested, but didn’t try to shake him off
“Bathroom. I’ve seen this happen before with my dad,” Theo said like it was a fact.
“Bathroom? What for? You want to take shower with me? We can do that later! I want to lay down, Potter! I am fine!”
Theo’s cheeks burned. Why was Boris like this?
Theo opened the bathroom door, which was difficult when you have someone leaning almost all their body weight on you, and let his hold on Boris go.
Not expecting it, Boris’ legs gave out, dropping to the floor. Giving up, he leaned back against a cabinet, the cold wood almost shocking his sweating body. He laughed for a minute, pressing his palm against his forehead.
“Oh, Potter, you are very funny,” he giggled, looking up at a both worried and unimpressed Theo.
The waves in his stomach grew, and he started to tremble. He tried to ignore it—to prove Theo wrong—as he hoisted himself up from the ground, gripping the sink hard enough to leave marks on his fingers.
The world was spinning faster and faster for Boris, and despite his effort to show Theo he was perfectly fine, he reluctantly crawled over to the toilet.
It felt like he was swallowing rocks, and sweating bullets. He breathed in, and then out. In and out, in and out.
He lurched over, and felt his guts spilling out into the toilet bowl below him.
Theo patted his back, Boris breathing heavy. He shakily wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his sweater.
“I told you so, you goddamn idiot,” Theo chuckled
“Fuck you,” Boris glared daggers at him
“Wait here,” Theo walked towards the door
“Where are you going?” Boris said, almost defensively
“I’m going to get you some water. Sit down”
“I do not need water. I am fine”
“Yes you do. You just threw up god knows how many bottles of beer, and you need something in your system.”
Boris huffed, but didn’t say anything more. He leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes, a headache starting to spread through his head. This had never happened before, and he hated the fact that Theo was right. Stupid Theo. What does he know anyways?
The door creaked back open, and Theo held a glass of water in his hand, and crackers in the other. He stood above Boris, holding the water out for him.
Boris felt entirely and absolutely pathetic right now. Theo having to take care of him, him sitting on the floor like a loser.
He reluctantly grabbed the water and crackers from Theo, letting his fingers linger just a second longer than normal over Theo’s.
He took a sip of water, and he didn’t realize until then just how dry his throat felt. It felt like a thunderstorm after a drought. He couldn’t get enough of the icy water, he downed the whole glass in what felt like only two seconds.
“What was that about not needing water?” Theo shoved him, sliding down the wall to sit next to him.
“I…uh…” Boris was at a loss for words.
So he didn’t say anything. And neither did Theo. The only sound that filled the room was the faint munching of crackers, and the occasional drip from the leaky faucet. They sat there just…enjoying each other's presence. At some point, Boris found himself intertwining his fingers with Theo’s once again, but he wasn’t really aware of it. Still in a drunken state, he wasn’t aware of much, although the effects were starting to wear off. Theo gripped his hand back.
“I want to go to sleep,” Boris said suddenly
“Uh…okay. Can you stand?” Theo turned to face him
“Of course I can stand. I am not stupid,” Boris crossed his arms defensively
Boris picked himself up off the floor, but stumbled over his feet, landing on his knees. Theo, whose legs were still stretched out on the floor, chucked at him. Theo sighed, stood up, and held his hand out for Boris
“Come on, let’s go”
“I do not need help!” Boris complained, while still begrudgingly taking hold of Theo’s hand.
He tried his best not to lean on Theo for support on the short walk back to the bedroom, but try as he may, Theo still ended up carrying quite a bit of his weight.
Boris plopped down on the bed, Theo following close behind. Glancing at the clock hung on his wall, he was vaguely able to make out that it was sometime between midnight and 3 AM.
Still feeling like he was in a desert, he pulled his soft red sweater over his head, and tossed it to the side.
“What are you doing?” Theo stuttered
Boris looked at him. His cheeks were glowing beet red, as he was attempting to look away from Boris, but clearly he was not succeeding.
“It is very hot. Taking off sweater will cool me down, no?” Either Boris was oblivious to what he was doing to Theo, or he chose not to pay any mind to it.
“Uh, yeah. Makes sense,” Theo climbed into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.
Boris, not taking the hint that Theo was also ready to sleep, crawled over to Theo and placed his hand on Theo’s forehead. Theo jerked up.
“Jesus, Boris, what the fuck are you doing?”
“You also look very hot. Cheeks as red as a tomato”
“I-...I'm fine. Go to sleep, Boris,” Theo laughed it off, rolling his eyes
Boris stared at him, as if he was trying to solve a puzzle, but eventually let it go and rolled over next to Theo. He stared at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep, but the initial wave of fatigue had left him.
Instead, the heat wave he was feeling was starting to fade away, and without realizing he was even cold, he felt himself start to shiver. Not wanting to wake Theo to grab his sweater, he tried to pull more of the blanket onto himself, but it was no use. He huffed, and decided he would just fall asleep cold. If he could.
He rolled onto his other side, facing away from Theo, shutting his eyes tightly. He tried to manually slow his breathing, but it didn’t do anything. His teeth started to chatter, and he jumped as he heard Theo rustle next to him.
“Are you okay? You keep moving?” Theo mumbled. Evidently, he wasn’t able to fall asleep either.
Boris rolled back to face Theo. He lingered for a moment, staring into Theo’s half-opened eyes. They glowed in the little bit of moonlight that was leaking through his curtains.
“I am fine, P-potter,” He shivered, “Go to sleep”
“Okay, well you’re literally shivering. Why don’t you get up and get your sweater?”
“Don’t want to. And I did not want to wake you”
“I wasn’t even asleep”
“Does not matter”
Theo sighed.
“Well, if you’re not going to get your sweater, will you let me warm you up?”
Boris’ heart jumped. He hadn’t expected that from Theo, but he wasn’t particularly opposed to the idea.
“This is very unlike you, Potter” Boris whispered.
Even so, Boris moved himself closer, and hesitantly draped his arm over Theo’s waist. He felt Theo’s breath hitch, and could only imagine how flustered he was. He pulled Theo closer, and Theo returned the gesture by cautiously wrapping his arms around Boris’ back.
It was awkward at first, but eventually they started to loosen up and fall into each other's arms. Boris raised his free hand, and weaved his fingers through Theo’s hair. Theo shut his eyes, breathing unevenly.
Boris could feel Theo’s breath on his collarbones, and he gently leaned forward, pressing his chest to Theos’. Theo buried his head in the crook of Boris’ neck, Boris’ dark curls falling over his shoulder and Theo’s forehead.
Boris softly rubbed Theo’s waist, causing him to grip Boris tighter than before.
Boris pressed his lips to the top of Theo’s head, sending a shiver down his spine. Theo looked up at him, but said nothing. God, he was gorgeous in the moonlight, curled up into Boris.
Boris’ breath started to even out, his teeth no longer chattering. And if he was shivering, it was because Theo was so close to him, not because he was cold.
“C-can I…” Theo started, voice cracking, barely above a whisper
“You can do whatever you want, Theo,” Boris mumbled
Theo’s heart skipped a beat. Boris had never called him ‘Theo.’ Always ‘Potter.’
He nodded as best he could, before leaning back down again and pressing a soft kiss to Boris’ neck. It was Boris’ turn for his face to grow red, and he gripped Theo’s sides.
Theo’s lips traced from his jaw to his collarbone, each kiss making Boris’ heart skip faster.
Theo looked up at Boris, who was biting his lower lip, face burning.
“Guess who’s flustered now,” Theo joked
In response, Boris lifted Theo’s chin with his hand, lips hovering over the other’s. Theo’s breath hitched, but he didn’t pull back.
He leaned in, closing the gap between the two, and pressed his lips to Boris’
Boris’ lips tasted reminiscent of beer and cigarette smoke, but Theo didn’t mind. Eventually, he pulled back, once again laying his head between Boris’ shoulders.
“Go to sleep now,” he mumbled
“Goodnight, Potter”
“Goodnight, Boris”