Make Me (Remdy)

We All Like A Drink

Trigger warnings: Mentions of death, depression

"Remington, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," Andy calls, immediately regretting his statement, but Remington is already walking away with tears spilling onto his cheek. Andy chases after him and grabs his shoulder. "Please wait," he tries, showing desperation that he doesn't often show.

Slowly, Remington turns around.

Andy takes his hand away. "I'm sorry," he says, "I didn't mean that at all."

Remington can't look at him. "And yet you still said it."

"Please don't go. At least let me try and make it better before you do."

"Why?"

"I couldn't bare letting you go knowing I've upset you. Five minutes, that's all. Please?"

"Andy, I'm tired."

"Look, you can come in, I'll get you a drink, just please don't let us leave it like this."

The younger wipes under his eyes. "Fine. Five minutes."

Inside, Andy tells Remington to sit down while he goes to open a bottle of wine, returning a few minutes later with two glasses and the bottle. He pours a glass for Remington, handing it to him and saying, "I was out of line and I'm sorry."

"Why can't you just be honest?"

"Everything I just said was me being honest, I don't understand."

"No, I know, I mean..."

Andy sighs. "Oh, I see. We're back here again. I'm not attracted to you. I've already told you that."

"Please just stop lying."

"I'm not lying, Remington."

The boy takes a large gulp of the wine and shakes his head.

Putting his glass on the coffee table, Andy drops his head into his hands.

"I want you to just tell me the real truth, just once, please. Because I'm tired of trying to guess what you're thinking."

"I don't know what to say."

Remington downs the rest of his drink and puts his glass down beside Andy's. "Yes, you do," he responds, "you know exactly what to say. Don't start playing games with me."

Andy doesn't lift his head.

"Fine, then I'm going home. Good talk." He gets up but Andy unexpectedly grabs his arm and makes him sit back down. "What are you doing?"

"Please don't."

"Don't what?"

Andy's voice is soft as he says, "please don't go back to the graveyard."

"Why? Because a zombie's gonna jump out and bite me?"

"No, because I'm worried about you, and I don't think you should be on your own."

Remington throws his arms in the air. "Either hate me or don't but make up your bloody mind!"

"I don't hate you, Remington. Why would I hate you?"

"Because one second you're telling me everyone hates me and the next, you're 'worried' about me, so make up your mind because you look like a twat."

"I fucking care about you, how haven't you worked that out by now?"

"Because you keep giving me mixed signals, like I said! You do shit to cheer me up and whatever, then you'll suddenly start arguing with me again and then wonder why I have issues trusting you! I'm not being funny, but you need to sort your shit out because all I see when I look at you is a childish, immature dick!"

"That's rich coming from you!" Andy retorts.

"Like, stop fucking pissing about and just admit your feelings!"

"Admit my feelings? Remington, has it ever occurred to you that all you do is dodge around your feelings? Hell, God knows what you feel most of the time because you hide it all behind this ridiculous cockiness that fucking makes me lose my mind!"

"Says the man who spent half his time calling me a slut!"

"As if you didn't enjoy that."

Remington laughs dryly. "Enjoy it? I enjoyed being called a slut? Because I was wearing a crop top? Are you fucking insane? Are you actually that fucking stupid?" He picks up the wine and drinks straight from the bottle, glaring when Andy snatches it from him.

"You're not supposed to drink it like it, it's expensive."

Remington laughs again. "I couldn't care less, to be honest. Give me the bottle."

"In your dreams."

The younger makes a lunge for the bottle, gasping and putting a hand to his mouth when the red liquid spill onto the white carpet. He fights laughter as Andy darts off to get a cloth and is still laughing when the man returns.

"I'll kill you," threatens the man, soaking up the alcohol with kitchen roll and attempting to rub the stain out with a damp towel. "Fuck," he mutters.

"You're only making it worse."

"And you're helping."

"Alright, alright, sorry, but you're the one who opened the wine, so..."

Andy drops the cloth and gives Remington an unimpressed look. Then he grabs him by the collar and pulls him forcefully off the couch.